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#how long before her fur grows back
aerynwrites · 7 months
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Longing
Halsin x Fem!Reader
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A/N: I have been burning with an intense CRAVING for Halsin and there is such little fic about him (although there are some good ones out there 👀) so I had to do my part and add to the pool 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is insecure about her virginity, talks of inexperience, love confessions, Halsin is a sweetheart, references to NSFW content. Very very minor spoilers for act 2.
Part 2
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The fur of the rabbit is soft between your fingers as you prepare it. Yet, despite having a knife in your other hand and your task being a delicate one, you can’t seem to focus.
Your eyes keep drifting back to the druid across camp chopping wood for the fire. The axe is a large one, heavy - heavier than you’d be able to lift. Yet the large elf manages to bring it up above his head and swing it back down with a grace you never understood how he possessed.
The muscles in his shoulders ripple with each movement, accompanying the rythmic thump of the axe through wood. His soft grunts as he pulls it from the stump he’s using before placing the next log onto the surface and starting the process all over again.
“The rabbit is already dead, darling.”
The familiar voice rips you from your staring as your head whips around to see none other than your vampiric companion standing over you, a smirk tugging at his lips. You huff at him before looking down to the rabbit by your knees and heat rushes to your cheeks. What should have been a simple skinning job to get the meat ready for dinner has turned into a mess. Cuts in the wrong places, the hide nowhere near usable anymore.
You look back up just in time to see Astarions red eyes go from you, to Halsin, then back again. His smile grows. He shifts his feet, one arm resting across his chest as he gestures with his other to Halsin.
“You know, you could paint a portrait. It would last longer.”
Your cheeks somehow get even hotter, as you turn back to the rabbit in front of you, doing a much better job than earlier.
“Leave me alone, Astarion,” you mumble, cursing internally when the elf lowers himself to the ground beside you, arms resting on his knees.
“And why would I do that, when teasing you gives me so much joy?”
You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Okay, well you got me all flustered. So now that’s out of the way, did you need something or did you really interrupt your reading to bother me?”
The vampire sighs, leaning back on his hands as he looks over to you. “What I need is for you to finally jump that druids bones.”
You nearly choke as the words leave his lips, looking around to see if anyone heard and feeling heat creep up your neck once more as you see Shadowheart failing to hide a chuckle.
You turn to face your friend, eyes narrowed. “Could you be a little more quiet? I don’t need the whole camp hearing you.”
Astarion laughs this time, loudly, and it draws more glances than you’d like. You roughly shove the man next to you before he can speak.
“Your next words better be a whisper or I’m going to stab you ” you threaten, poking the knife in his direction.
Astarion places a hand over his heart, faux hurt in his eyes. “You wound me, darling. I’m just trying to help you. Plus,” he gestures to the camp, “it’s not like your attraction is a secret, nor Halsin’s.”
You shake your head turning back to grab another rabbit, embarrassment welling up in your chest. “He doesn’t…” you trail off, getting defensive. “Nothing’s there, Astarion. So can we please just drop it?”
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Look,” he starts, “all I’m trying to say is that neither of you are benefiting from holding back so…indulge, for once. Gods know we all deserve it.”
You ignore him. Curling in on yourself at the mention of…indulging. There nothing wrong with it of course. Everyone at camp has blown off steam along this adventure. Just…not you.
And the vampire must be able to tell too, because at your silence he straightens up, brows pinching in the rare way that shows he’s concerned.
“Wait, have you never…?” he gestures vaguely in the air.
His words, despite their genuine curiosity, strike a chord in you. You stand abruptly, tossing your work to the ground and stabbing your knife in the dirt.
“No I haven’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” Your words are louder than you intended and draw the eyes and ears of your other companions.
Astarion softens, obviously not expecting this reaction. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“
You clench your fists at your sides, interrupting him. “You never mean to Astarion but -“ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
You turn on your heel and storm from camp before anyone can stop you, ignoring the concerned gaze of a certain druid.
———
The water is cool against your skin as you squat by the stream’s edge, rubbing at your hands as you try to get the blood off of them.
You feel foolish now, storming off like that. But Astarion pointing out your inexperience just struck you. It’s not something that’s ever bothered you before. Especially not in recent months since dealing with the tadpole. You all have more important things to worry about.
But the moment you rescued Halsin…it’s like something changed. You were instantly drawn to him. His kind smile and thoughtful words. His care for everyone and everything in nature.
And he flirted with you.
The memory is still fresh in your mind. The night of the tiefling party after you had stopped the ritual at the druid camp and saved Halsin. You were worried you were talking his ear off, but he was attentive the whole conversation. Answering your questions and asking some about you.
Then he said those honeyed words. Suggested celebrating by spending the night with someone special. Implied he would spend it with you if his mind wasn’t elsewhere.
You withdraw your hands from the water to drag them down your face as more memories surface.
More flirtatious banter and kind words. Thoughtful conversations and fighting side by side. The night sat by your bedside nursing you back to health after a particularly nasty fight. After Ketheric Thorm almost took you out.
Your side still aches with the memory. But the thought of his hands with their soothing healing glow, makes the ache subside.
You sigh, sitting back into the grass as your eyes lock onto the slowly gurgling stream, Astarion words playing over and over in your head.
Indulge, for once.
You want to. Gods do you want that.
You’ve spent many sleepless nights thinking about it. About his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, the sweet words he’d no doubt whisper against your ear.
You shudder at the thought before shoving it away. Because any time he hinted at that - showed any interest in you - you would be so elated before insecurity took over.
Halsin’s views on love and intimacy are no secret. You’d asked him once about current lovers and while he did confide no one currently held his affections back home he also expressed that there were others in the past.
Others. Plural.
And you’ve never been with anyone. Not physically or emotionally, you’ve never trusted anyone enough.
Not until now.
You sigh, frustration creeping back in as you press the heels of your palms into your eyes before quickly standing up. You need to apologize to Astarion and finally, maybe, talk to Halsin.
You turn on your heel to do just that when you run straight into a solid mass. You gasp, stumbling backwards just as two strong hands reach out to steady you, gripping your wrists firmly.
Once steady, you look up to see none other than the man haunting your thoughts smiling down at you.
“You must have been very deep in thought for someone like me to sneak up on you, little one.”
You have to suppress a shiver at the nickname. A moniker he’d given you since you teased him about his size at the beginning of your friendship.
You shake your head, moving to step away and only stopping when his hands let go only to slip down and take your own gently.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I was just…thinking.”
Halsin stares at you for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face before he steps away, gesturing down the first path, one hand still in your own.
“Walk with me?” he asks. “I know being in nature helps me clear my head of even the darkest thoughts.”
You give a hesitant nod and follow him as he turns towards the path, not able to stop the smile when he doesn’t drop your hand.
———
The walk is mostly silent, a comfortable silence, but silent nonetheless. And you are grateful for it, not sure what you would say if Halsin were to ask what has you so upset.
But, silence can’t last forever it seems, because eventually the large Druid breaks through the sounds of nature surrounding you to speak.
“I overheard your conversation with Astarion,” he says, voice gentle. Probing, but not not forcing you to talk if you do not wish.
You stiffen, your pace slowing slightly, wanting to pull away from the man at your side. But his sure grip on your hand keeps you in place. The warmth of his skin on yours puts you slightly at ease.
“You…you heard that?” you ask, cringing internally. “You were across camp.”
The druid chuckles, gesturing to his ears with his free hand. “One of the curses of us elves. Impeccable hearing. Even when we don’t wish for it.”
You can feel your shoulders creeping up to your ears. Embarrassment settling in once more. “You were listening to us? To me?”
Halsin shrugs. “Not intentionally,” he admits, slowing his steps until you’re both stopped and he’s facing you. “But I find my attention turning towards you more often than not these days.”
His words tie your tongue and before you can gather enough sense to respond he continues.
“Nature works in mysterious ways, little one,” he tells you, eyes never leaving your face. “There is no one way to traverse it, and others journey do not define your own. Each one is unique, as it is intended.”
His words are beautifully woven, as always. And despite his cryptic deliverance, you know the meaning behind his words.
He’s comforting you. And once again, he speaks before you can detangle the jumble of thoughts in your head.
“And,” he reaches out, placing a curled finger beneath your chin to urge you to look up at him, “if it’s any encouragement, I seek you out as much as you do me. Possibly more so.”
Your eyes widen, heart stuttering in your chest at his words. He…does he feel the same way? Rationally you know he does. But that ever familiar self doubt, the tiny voice in your mind has always brushed away the flirting - the kind words and gentle touches as just part of his nature. None of it is reserved just for you.
Right?
Halsin smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners gently as he looks down at you. “Is that really such an outlandish thought? That I return your affections?” He pauses, “unless my heart has run ahead of itself and I have misread-“
You stop him then, reaching up to place a staying hand on his own beneath your chin.
“No! You haven’t…you haven’t misread,” you assure him, trying to still your racing heart.
His smile never falters, his other hand finally coming up to cradle the back of your head, teasing soft strands of hair between his fingers.
“That is good to hear,” he says, pulling you ever closer, his nose almost brushing yours, “it puts this old druid's mind at rest.”
Gods, you can’t breathe. The air in your lungs refusing to expel as he lean even closer, lips a hairbreadth away from your own. Your body sings with anticipation, your skin hot despite the cool air ushered in by the sun sinking below the horizon, the days last rays barely filtering through the trees.
“Can I kiss you, my heart?”
Halsins words are soft, barley a whisper and nearly drowned out by the sounds of nature around you and the roaring of blood in your ears.
You nod. “Please-“
The word barely passes your lips before he descends upon you, sealing his mouth with your own.
It’s both everything you expected and completely surprising at the same time. His hands are sure as he pulls you into him, one hand still cradling your head as the other slips down to your hip before wrapping around your waist. Yet his lips, the kiss itself is…soft. Gentle. Loving. The action speaks louder than any words either of you have said to one another. Louder than the words you never worked up the courage to speak.
Finally, your mind catches up with you, and your hands slide up his chest to clutch tentatively at his shoulders.
Halsins still hasn’t broken away from you, and when his tongue brushes against your lips you let him in. You tug him closer then, one of your hands sliding up to rest at the back of his neck eliminating any empty space between you as his tongue slides against your own.
He only pulls away when he must sense your need for air, but he doesn’t go far, lips pressing gently to the corner of your own, and then another to your jaw.
You’re breathless.
Chest heaving against him, as he pulls away just enough to look at you once more.
“As much as I’d love to continue…” his hand squeezes your hip gently, “we should make our way back to camp. I can imagine our absence as stirred gossip with our vampiric companion and..” he sighs, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
You can’t surprise the shiver that runs down your spine, or the smile that tugs at your lips.
“I’m…I’m okay being overwhelmed if it’s like that,” you tell him breathlessly.
Halsin laughs, a deep down genuine laugh that makes your heart sing even as he steps away from you.
“Then I will overwhelm you in all the ways I know how.” He promises, eyes trailing over you heatedly.
Your stomach does a flip at his words, and the effect they have on you must show on your face because Halsin chuckles again, leaning in to press one last kiss to your cheek before tugging you back in the direction towards camp.
“Another night, my heart,” he says, thumb brushing over your knuckles from where your hand remains in his own.
You let out a shaky breath, and nod, smiling as you walk closer to him. “I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope you would, though I doubt I will forget such a promise,” he assures before letting silence blanket you both one more.
You can’t stop the thrill that runs through you at his words.
Yes, I’ll hold you to that promise indeed.
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daze4all · 1 month
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Dragons Heat - Year of Dragon Smut NSFW
“This heat ahh think I’m in rut. I haven’t been in centuries but you look so delicious…Help me dear please?”
Warning:  NSFW Breeding tail kink, alpha dragon omega reader dynamics.  heat rut. Biting aphrodisiac venom. Mating press.  Door sex
Reader is the only fertile dragon hence it falls to her to replenish the diminishing population with some help….
A tail of Teasing
Dragon! Hubby x Reader
Could be Neuvelette, Zhongli, Dan Feng( Honkai Star Rail, Malleus (Twisted Wonderland) , Jiyan (Wuthering Waves any dragon characters
The Dragon Daddies ( More pics of Dragon & Genshin Bois at end~)
Dan Heng aka Dan Feng Imbibitor Lunae - Honkai Star Rail- High Elder of the Ancient Chinese Spaceship Loufu - Dragon Race: Vidyhydra
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Malleus Draconia- Male! Maleficent-the Thorn Dragon boi from Sleeping Beauty- Twisted Wonderland
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Jiyan - Wuthering Waves (TBA) - Dragon man?
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Soft feathery fur and glistening scales as your lover’s tail thumps beside you a sunlight lazy day.
Always honest often when your dragon partner is not.
His desires concealed by gentlemanly manner ad polite niceties while his tail deviantly wraps around your leg out of site or slithers round your waist in pubic or in sleep to keep you from straying.
Lately he had been teasing, touching, marking you with his scent unbeknownst to you. He had been more touch starved than usual sign of rut both were unaware of as it had only awaked due to him now having a mate in the long years, he had been alive.
His eye predatory as he watches every single move you make.
His face flushed from heat and eye widen with want fixated on the vulnerable nape of your neck as you take sip or put up your hair. His instincts clawing to claim you before anyone else took you.
He holds back. As ever the gentlemen and distinguished member of the community composed cool an aloof, he cannot take you over the table with so many spectators at the charity ball you been invited too. Despite the heated pants and blush trailing up his neck and ears that becomes stronger whenever you bend down or even smile at him.
The best he can do is stay close. Your presence soothing and stoking the fire in him as he stalks your every move with a predatory stare.
Flanking your side like a shadow an arm wrapped possessive over yours a bit too tightly as he escorts you at the banquet they were forced to attend.
Then at dinner pastry too close too flirtatious a man reaches out and offers you dance his gaze raking your form clearly seeing when your partner saw in you and he cannot hold it. How impertinent you were dragons’ mate he’d show it damn the consequences.
“She’s mine” eyes narrowed he hisses A possessive arm pulls you from the main venue. A tail flicking angrily pulling you away into the hallway and into an empty room. A dragons possession claimed by him touched by another could not allow.
What gotten into you? You ask perplexed naive innocent and all so unknowably thinking it was irritation anger that has him flushed and riled up. He was so snappy these days and so touchy to manhandle you.
“I need you” he groans, and you get the cue as he pulls weakly at your and his clothes his lingers touch to hips back and shoulder insinuating what he wants.
He reaches out for you his arms trapping you in embrace against the door with thunk. The door locking shut and pressed up against heated bodies.
His chaste kiss led playful nip then a horny lip bite leading you two stumbling into bedroom.
Unable to control himself his true form manifests. Growing majestic horns and swishing tail complete with spreading glowing patches of scales where smooth skin is.
“Why did you pull me away what’s wrong “softer concern in your eyes soothing him by touching his horn at its base of which normally calms him down or has him purring in your lap on lazy days.
However, the touch only serves to rile Him up as he growling snorts pulling away as such softness when beast inside wants to ruin you. He instead pressed his growing need again you and ruts.  
“This heat ahh think I’m in rut. I haven’t been in centuries, but you look so delicious…” he gasps as he slams  you against the door repeatedly pressing his need and want against you as you redden.
“I smell you . your ready . so wet “he whispers in your ear grasping at a empty stomach but not for long
“Ah will you help my dear I need you right now?” he begs pretty tears and flushed face. Frazzled loosening normally perfectly pressed clothes as he lean over you against the door his face beautiful but pleading face flushed and teary eyed despite his intimidating towering frame.
You let out startled cry as you cry his name as your knees go weak in a surge of pain and pleasure.
“Don’t look at other men. Don’t even think about them just me” he growls possessive breath at your neck tickling as he licks and scatters love bite on your neck. Sucking the pulse point before sinking in fangs turning it into a deep claiming a bloody claiming mark.
 And slight sense of panic that dulls. Before feeling slightly drowsy like in dream as syrupy sweet pleasure seeps in and heats your core. His bite injected apodrosiac venom making you his mate as sensitive and receptive to heat as he was.
Dazed and flustered as he ways.
“ah sorry my dear are you okay?” he says panicked when he realizes what his instincts drive him to do. However still heated and turned on by the slow slide of your blood feeling himself swallow thirstily for more.
A purr rumble though his dragon side at approval of the claiming bite bruised and bloody on your neck Now no one could mistake who you belonged to. . .
“ah it okay just ahh this heat I see now how cannot you stand it…” found yourself saying to soothe him and the heat building in your body. Panting heavily was this how he felt liethe whole week?  You give him a dazed smile high on the pleasure.
“Don’t’ hold back…ahh now can you help me?” You assent leaning into him transfixed glazed eyes filled with lust. He descends equally hungry and horny.
You shouldn’t I could hurt you he intones eyes darkening barely restrained.
“Ah I trust you “ you assert a chaste kiss turning horny as tongue and teases to bite down briefly the monster in his desiring a bit of blood riling him up further.
 A startled sound of surprise normally as he us not this aggressive but gentle afraid to break but the beast unleashed he is now unable to hold back.  
“I’ll make it good, pleasurable, you’ll see” he promises joy lighting up his feature making them glow so godly at that moment,
“ahh you were meant for this to be bred” he thinks aloud  his tail winds up your leg the tip teasing you as you rut closer for delicious friction in vain held in place by tensing tail a playful squeeze to remind you who is in control.
 “Don’t say that its embarrassing… “ you cry tears of pleasure welling up although you get wetter at the words.
“Ah I think you like it see how wet you are, how open ready to take me” he teases mind hungry to fill you breed youas he turns you your back tail and fingers teasing youas you rock backinto pleasure
“Trust me~”
Swaying before him your bottom tempting him. He ruts into your soft thighs. He is undone. A slave to instinct and a rut addled brain urging him to breed his mate quickly
Stuck on your stomach his hand pressing firmly and a tail between your legs teasing each fold delivering spark of pleasure. Softly coaxing at the tip featherlight tail drives you mad and dripping.
Teasing before delving in with gaps arch your gasp too full too big and yet pressing ever closer.
He had his mate in a mating press glued together wet and glistening the fluid as he delves deeper .
“ahh Too big “you protest as he soothes you stroking exposed arm legs anyway his hands can get ahold of and nibbling at your ears
"shh your doing so good just a little more"
“Good girl ah you feel mmh so good”
He says love drunk on you panting. Desperate movement seeking pleasure friction as his undone hair cascades and brightens in arousal his horn tail casting iridescent glow on you.
For you push back in vain only to hit the sweet spot as he ruins you his dear precious mate.
“Ah ah wait for the real thing”  he teases as he withdraws his tail from his mate and winds it around a leg to keep her in place.
“Wait that was… “you trail off your eyes widen in embarrassment blush searing your ears . A sly smirk is all the answer you need.
“no way… your tail” you cry embarrassed
“I had to prepare you somehow” he explains a cheeky grin before he descends fast sudden into your well prepared slick hole groaning as you fit perfectly.
You cry his name as he enters filling you and reaching rhythm that has you screaming in pleasure
Closing his eyes and purring in contentment. The tip of his swishing tail glowing in time to his thrusts undone by how easily you are wet you are for him and you groan alongside him.
 Your protests are swallowed. Weakly, feebly, futilely as pleasure courses through you. Toes curling hips shaking as he presses further widening opening you to take his seed,
“You are doing so good just a little more…” he bullies you with his length burying further till he hit the spot that has you seeing stars.
Walls scraping and squeezing his pulsing hardened cock just right coaxing his seed to spill into you hot and creamy taking root for new life. Ahh he needed you
His eye glow tail as do his horns and the tip of glistening tail as he commands you “Cry for me”
As a whine left parched lips reaching your high bucking into him for more delicious friction as your filled.
“Perfect~” He purrs in contentment nuzzling you for cuddles after duty well down. He remains nestled in you warmth milking and warming what remains as you shake with tremors of pleasure wrecked and overwhelmed and oh so sensitive.
After a while he flips you forward to see your flushed face. He bares his teeth hungrily at prey…eyes glowing full of love obsession and lust darkening at the sight of you layed out panting beneath him exhausted wrecked by him with your neck bared for him to take and take …
“Did I do good? “ you ask dazed but warm and safe in his cuddling embrace.
“So good dear in fact can we go again?” he whispers pleading as he shifts his hip with squelch still impossibly hard from the rut.  You are now so wet from the combination of your love juices as he slides again smoothly picking up speed as you fall to the dragon's appetite once again.
“Just on the bed this time” you concede as you both fall onto silken sheets.
Happy year of Dragon everyone! Here to share an Extra dragon boy artwork for happy new year~ I think it's Malleus but looks like Dan Feng?
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Zhongli-Earth Dragon- Morax/Rex Lapis Geo Archon of Liyue from Genshin Impact
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Neuvillette- Water Dragon - Judge of Fontaine from Genshin Impact
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diejager · 24 days
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Imagine that the hybrid 141 was getting a teammate and that teammate was a hybrid and Laswell wanted it to be a surprise for the team what they are as in hybrid was and soon as they get off the aircraft and onto the tarmac, the boys realize that they’re with another dragon hybrid and her “heat” would be soon upon her (dark blue in to black better for stealth or, whatever you prefer, she also has her wings) how would the boys handle that you can take the story anyway you want 
This… I might make it self-indulging because this idea has been clawing at the back of my mind for a long while. Cw: mating/heat cycle, fire/water magic, tell me if I missed any.
Laswell had Price wait for the surprise she had planned, the secret she kept from them when they received your file. It had all he asked for in attributes and skills, but all things personal that should have been on it were scratched out in black. He was told that it was a need to know basis, your name, age or species wouldn’t be divulged unless you told them yourself. He knew you from words from mouth to ear, ad read of your skill and efficiently but nothing he heard and found told him an ounce about you as a person. Your character was a mystery he died to know.
So when he got word from Laswell that your ETA was just over half an hour, he had the boys reconvene to the airstrip, watching the aircraft carrying you land not too far from them, the rotors slowing to a steady thrum. The anticipation that bubble din his chest made this moment crawl at a snail’s pace, the ramp lowering too slowly for his liking and the droning sound of the aircraft’s irking his ears. Then, seconds after the ramp fully dropped, he caught sight of blue horns, tines growing from a singular robust beam, segmented like those of a scale. Your head, covered by a custom made helmet to let your antlers peek out and sit comfortably on your head (at least you wore something, unlike his constant frustration with finding one that wouldn’t bother his horns), followed after you walked out, decked in your gear and a bag slung over your shoulders. 
You weren’t what he was expecting, not exactly. He read that you had a masterful experience in hydromancy, stealing water from the air and humidity and contorting it to cause havoc in the field and cutting through the enemy. He and the others shared their theories, one possibility made you into a water witch, a leviathan, or one of those creepy monsters from the deep sea. Not what… whatever you were. You had elk-like horns painted in the deepest blue he’d ever seen and a tail covered in scales of the same shade, glistening under the light like it was wet with tufts of hair - or was it fur? - crawling down the base of your fourth limb to create a silky and soft end with long, slowing locks. 
What were you? What was that smell? It got sweeter the closer you got, a softness that clung to his nose and made him salivate. He wondered how strong it must be for the Soap and König who’s noses were more enhanced and sensitive than any others, they’d probably sniff the source - you - out and answer his undying question.
“Captain Price,” you nodded your head, a small smile gracing your lips, your slitted eyes narrowed in greeting, “Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”
That sweetness lingered around you and stuck to his hand when you shook hands, giving him a firm shake and stronger grip that he could admire for the strength you showed. Had you face been as bright as it was a few seconds before? Perhaps it was the musk that oozed off you, it was uneasily addicting and pleasing to his lizard brain, slowly moving the cogs of hos old machine. He watched you take a step back, making some distance between his Task Force and you, and his mind got clearer, nose less stuffy and cheeks wash away the slight flush. Then it hit him, the sweetness, the dazed perception of you and the growing need in his body, he was reacting to you. 
“Sorry, I was told I’d be off for the week once I landed,” you cocked your head, sharing an apologetic smile, “My cycle follows the Lunar year.”
Ah, everything made more sense now, the gracefulness of your beautiful tail, the glistening of your scales and the sharpness of your horns. He had agreed to welcome another dragon to his Task Force, he was fortunate that Asian dragons were calmer and benevolent than his European counterpart. 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami
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Okay Witch Reader and Alastor during the attack on the hotel?
Witch Reader gets injured by a stray exterminator! Because she legit didn’t see it coming but she is still a baddie. And Al just actually caring for reader and tries to fend her off from oncoming attack. I dont know but perhaps some cute fluff were reader sees Alastor isn’t exactly useless and Reader for the first time feels safe around Al. He being such a good boy for Reader. This is a slow burn at this point, im a sucker for em.
This was pretty fun to write! I imagine that it comes a long time after the Say You're Sorry fic though, I just felt motivated to write this now :p
Original powerful witch reader fic
Warnings: violence, blood, the power imbalance is still present, not proofread
How Altruistic
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*Without your input, your doe had been placed to fight against Adam.
*This bothered you.
*Severely.
*You knew you're little doe couldn't handle a fight against the first man, so you decided to stick around during the fight.
*Stabbing an angel or two here and there to help out, but mainly keeping your eye on Alastor.
*The Radio Demon getting injured by Adam caused yourself to be caught off guard and led to your own injury.
---
A scratch.
A tiny stab to your arm with an angelic spear, all because you were too busy watching Alastor.
How troublesome.
Thankfully you saw that the deer demon fled successful. Allowing you to preserve yourself instead.
But before you could end that exorcists life a flash of green pushed it back and stabbed the exorcist with angelic steal.
You look towards the hotel walls and low and behold is your doe. Clenching his arm across an injured chest, the green aura of his magic marking him responsible for the exorcists death.
He staggers away to his radio tower.
You raise a brow at this.
You materialize next to your doe. You weren't just going to let him deplete his energy by traveling such a long distance up.
"You look terribly disheveled, my deer." He squeaks when you unexpectedly carry him bridal style, "It's a good look on you."
He recovers from the startle quickly, grin at full fake force.
"I- I could say the same about you!" He pokes gently at the stab wound on your arm, "You should- you should put me down, darling..." Alastor coughs up blood, "I-It'll strain that arm of yours."
Your hold on him tightens, to support him better, "Since when were you so caring?"
He freezes.
"...I-" He looks away from your face, but wraps his arms around your neck. "..."
Then begins the silent journey up the radio tower. Once the two of you are up there you gently lower him onto the floor.
He leans against the wall as you send off a shadow to retrieve bandages for you.
You take off the coat he always wears, then the shirt.
"Quite the slice." You muse.
"I can-" he coughs up more blood, "- manage myself, thank you."
Your shadow gives you the supplies necessary, you begin to work on your doe.
"My friends, they didn't even notice when I lost to Adam!" He giggles shakily, "Alastor Altruist died for his friends and they were absolutely unbothered!"
"How altruistic of you."
Alastor laughs.
His laughter grows until it trails off into another coughing fit.
"What would the papers say?" He says in his radio ready voice, "Absolutely nothing, because they couldn't care less about the radio demon!" He snarls.
You finally begin to wrap the bandages around his torso, humming in acknowledgement.
"..." The deer demons ears flatten. "... What was your incentive behind watching my battle with the brute that is the first man?"
You finish bandaging Alastor's wound. Sitting back, you smile at him.
"I couldn't have my pretty little doe dying on me, now could I?"
"It appears that's what the rest of hell was hoping for..." He comments, rather dejected.
You pet the tufts of fur on his ears. "Not all of hell, my deer."
His ears flick in uncertainty. Then his gaze drifts to the gash on your arm.
"Allow me to assist you with that." He takes hold of your arm, the radio effect in his voice starting up again. "It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of myself to allow a lady to bleed out in front of me!"
You laugh along to his jibe.
"You've grown on me, little doe. Truly."
The two of you stare at one another, for a moment, locking eyes.
It's a look of understanding.
A look of care.
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kquil · 10 months
Text
SIRIUS BLACK | HIS FUTURE WIFE
request : Hi, this is my first time requesting so I don't really know how 😅, but can you write something with Sirius being in love with reader and basically just like jily type of love where he always follows her and calls his future wife — @moonlightwonderland
length : 1.1k
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“There’s my girl,” Sirius grins, walking up to you with his arms open as if he was expecting a hug. 
“I’m not your girl, Sirius,” you huff, clutching your books closer to your chest and side stepping, avoiding his arms entirely. It’s been a year since Sirius Black has decided to pursue only you and abandoned his playboy persona. Now he was a committed man. His entire focus has zeroed in on you and you hate it. You hardly used to draw any attention but now, most of the female population at Hogwarts was glaring you down. It’s not your fault Sirius Black decided to turn over a new leaf and made you his primary objective; these girls need to stop making it seem like you forced Sirius to take amortentia. 
But, from the circumstances, you might as well have given him the love potion. He follows you around and does whatever he can to get your attention, even if he makes a fool of himself. He goes out of his way to buy and give you your favourite treats from Honeydukes and helpfully does your bidding wherever, whenever. It would have been a nice gesture when he brought down books from higher shelves for you that one time…if only he didn’t immediately demand a kiss as ‘thanks’ right after. He deserved being hit upside the head for that.   
You just want to be left alone so you wouldn’t have to worry about constantly being stared at by envious girls or gossiping teens who had nothing better to do with their time. 
“My future wife then,” Sirius’s boyish grin grows wider the instant you roll your eyes at him and stomp away, figuring a different route for your journey to class would help you avoid the rebellious teen. But Sirius is unrelenting, following after you with a skip in his step. 
“Stop following me, Sirius,” you groaned and quickened your pace but it was no use. His persistence is challenging and you eventually succumb to his irritable company. 
“But I don’t want to, wifey,” he protests. 
“Don’t call me that, and it doesn’t matter; I want you to leave me alone,‘ you counter. 
“No,”
“Yes,”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Your bickering is commonplace in the hallways and within classes now, although it’s more a legitimate argument for you and Sirius is just playing along. It truly was a mystery to everyone why the Sirius Black, notorious fuckboy and ladies man was suddenly abandoning all that for one girl. Only he knew the real reason. And it was frustrating, especially to you. He can’t just change everything about his mannerisms and force all that attention on you, his good looks, fun personality and enchanting eyes could only absolve him so much. You’d rather be dead before you ever confess that to him, though, it’ll only worsen your situation. 
You did have one saving grace, however. When classes were over, you could find peace and quiet down by the black lake, teetering on the borders of the forbidden forest. This was where you had met your year-long dearest friend, Snuffles. Injured and quivering from the cold, you nursed him back to health a year ago, abandoning your classes for the day so that you could make sure he got better. You knew that dogs weren’t allowed at Hogwarts so you didn’t want to risk anything by taking him to madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, his injuries weren’t too bad at the time and he just needed some company to care for him lovingly. 
“Hello handsome,” you smile upon seeing the familiar black dog through the trees of the forest. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he bounds over with enthusiastic barks and happy tail wags, “I’m happy to see you too boy!” kneeling down, you hug him around his neck and press kisses into his soft fur, “How are we today, hm?” as if he could understand you, Snuffles barks and sits before laying down to rest his head in your lap. 
Cooing at the large beast, you begin your usual pets as you delve into how your day was going, making small jokes and giving the occasional complaint over workload and stress build up. Snuffles gives a gentle whine as he paws at your thigh as if distressed over your worries and you smile warmly. He seems so human, someone that really cares about you and your wellbeing, it was nice to have. 
“Thank you for worrying about me Snuffles,” you muse softly, “but I’m really okay…so long as Sirius Black stays the hell away from me,” you huff in annoyance. It’s only natural that the conversation directs itself to the man in question as he’s made himself a prominent part of your days for the last year, “ugh! He’s so infuriating,” you frown down at the black dog still resting in your lap, “he won’t leave me alone no matter how much I tell him to. He’s been doing it for a year now and I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Today, he actually called me his future wife! What’s that about?!” you groan and push your head back. 
The sky is a pretty blue and you stare at it for a while before you continue, looking down when you feel a significant shift in Snuffles’s postion. The large black dog sits up and leans over to prop his head up on your shoulder and press his muzzle into your neck. He finds a sensitive spot and elicits a dulcet giggle from you, “if only he was as sweet and gentle as you, Snuffles,” you sigh, a small heat climbing up your neck and settling into your cheeks, “maybe then he could finally get me, just like he wants,” Snuffles pulls away and huffs, his version of a subtle sneeze. 
“Excuse you,” you tease, reaching up to scratch at the fur on his neck before you cup his face and bring his nose close so you could boop it with your own. 
“It’s a real shame, though,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around Snuffles’s neck once more and tucking your face into his fur, “his looks are exactly my type…”  Snuffles stiffens under your embrace but you don’t notice, “and he has some good personality traits too…if only he wasn’t so irritating,” there was a stutter in Snuffles’s movement when you lean back and pet his head softly, “you know, he started acting strange like this after I met you, Snuffles…I-” it was just a passing thought but there was a sudden realisation that slowly consumes your features, reflecting primarily in your eyes. It doesn’t help that the large dog before you slowly morphs into the man you were just complaining about. 
“Clever girl,” Sirius grins as he takes your chin in his fingers and pulls you in close, his breath ticking your lips as he continues to whisper, “I expect nothing less from my future wife,”
When he kisses you, sweet but amorously, you kiss back.
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a/n : my first request! lets go! i hope i did it justice darling, and i hope everybody enjoyed the read!
navi. | more oneshots
taglist : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @rosaleenablack
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hellowyellow1 · 8 months
Text
Black hole
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Naga Illumi x fab reader
Word count: 2k+
Warning: yandere, rape/noncon, Kidnapping, impregnation, eggpreg
When you were young your mother would tell you stories of monsters, made to murder and kill. Who sought Out random people if they did the most minor of things?
You never really Believed her you found it to just be dumb stories to scare you into doing what you were told. 
Like the story of the Incubus who only chased after kids who disobeyed their parents or the story of a spider crawling into a kid's eyes because he had ruined someone's sand castle.
They were petty stories, with morals that never made sense to you, but The ones that made you certain it was fake. Was the old folk tale of the forest apparently in there lays a black hole and if you get too close to darkness in your heart it will suck you up never to be seen again.
It was clearly made for kids away and you always found that tale to be ridiculous, A black hole would have devoured this whole town if it truly existed in this forest.
If anything it was probably some wild animal with black fur and that’s assuming this whole thing wasn’t made up because some toxic old man hated seeing kids happy.
Most people didn’t listen to your argument, no matter how many times you've told them it was okay or the logistics of such a situation. They just ignored you, called you crazy, spoke ill about your parents and how you would never be wed.
You sought to prove them wrong, ignoring your parent's pleas to not enter, you packed your things and left. Trudging through the forest with determination.
You never understood why someone would make up some silly legend over such a lovely forest.
the forest was beautiful large trees with lushes leaves that covered the heat of the sun, the pleasant chirping of birds that were high above you, and the beautiful scenery, left you puzzled.
Maybe they were scars of wild animals but the ones you saw were harmless small squirrels, birds, or frogs moving out of your way with little to no acknowledgment.
When you thought about it the lack of huge animals was weird for a forest that went on for miles there wasn’t a single deer in sight, maybe a bear lived here but you saw no signs of a predator.
This meant you’re original theory was wrong YoU shrugged “Maybe they’re hibernating” you bemused even though it was only fall and the temperature hadn't reached a degree that would call for easy sleep.
Maybe there was something dangerous in this forest you shivered at the thought, trying to calm down your nerve “Or maybe it’s some black hole sucking in every dangerous creature” you said rolling your eye’s before snorting” Yeah right” you whisper underneath your breath.
You continue your descent into the forest enjoying the chirping of birds, the further you went quieter they grew, unaware of the figure following close behind you covering himself in the plentiful amount of green trees.
Gliding through the dirt floor without making a single noise. You came across a stream letting out a breath of relief as you tilt down to take a sip of the surprisingly clean water leaving your back exposed to the figure who took advantage of that.
Wrapping itself around you, and constricting your movement while his sharp nails were an inch away from cutting your neck.
“State your business” he monotonously demanded you don’t reply frozen in fear to say anything, all you could do was examine.
The man had long black hair cascading over his back shining in the bright sun, his eyes were wide devoid of any life or color his skin was deadly pale as winter, but the thing that caught your eye.
He was only half of a man his white skin becoming scaly and a green on his waist becoming more pronounced the further it traveled down, until the only thing you could see was a green scale that wrapped around you.
Illumi shook your shoulder trying to gather your attention, confused at your frozen state, his confusion growing to annoyance as he snapped your finger that caught your attention.
“ wh-wh-what are you?”  you stammered Illumi tilted his head his pale lips opening to form an oh as if he had an epiphany.
“ You’re scared” Illumi stated his voice lilting abit as he concluded, you nodded your head as slowly as possible gulping, You felt dizzy, your mouth drying as you stared at those long nails that could murder you in an instant.
“ You should be, now state your reasoning for being here” he dismissed, his tail tightening against you. Bone straining on the verge of cracking scale cutting into your skin, blood sliding down and coating the green scale red.
“ I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother you I was just trying to enjoy the forest!” you yelled praying to god he believed you, Illumi stopped his dark eye staring into your own as he assessed the situation “ So you aren’t trying to murder me?” he states skeptically.
“ I just wanted to enjoy the forest in peace “ you cried out begging god he believed you. Illumi’s eyes widen taking in every movement you make. You are still trying your hardest to stare into his eyes, Sweat trickled down your forehead.
, He hummed tapping his chin as he pulls you away “I suppose makes sense” he said deep in thought nodding his head. His tail loosens, leaving you with plenty of room to breathe, Illumi leans closer and you flinch closing your eyes shut. 
His nails descending towards you they shift from sharp to blunt as he tucks your hair behind your ear.
You open your eye taking a peek at the man whose eye’s lowered they never lost their intensity but it was far more serene than before.” So you’ll let me go?” you hesitantly urged him on Illumi tilted his head in thought and your hope rises the longer he thinks.
He shakes his head long hair barely shifting, “ If you leave then you could alert people of my surrounding “ he explains. Your shoulder slumps and you feel your heart skip a beat
“ But I won’t tell anyone I’ll just lie and says I lost track of time or something” you tried to argue frantically thinking of an idea that he would say yes to Illumi. Take a slow Leasure blink.
“ Ihumans are fickled creatures a little bit of probing and they’ll tell you anything,” Illumi says so sure of himself, you felt your hope completely shatter tear streaming down your face.
Illumi grabs you “ Not to worry I am a  capable man,” he says thinking that is why you were so scared. He picked you up holding you with delicacy close against his chest.
His skin was icy cold sipping into you and taking your body heat, Illumi let out a small gasp looking down at you “You’re quite warm” he muttered surprised at this realization.
“ I had no idea humans held such body heat” he continues as he leads you further into the forest, you don’t respond you just cry into his chest trying to ignore how icy and uncomfortable he feels.
He led you through the rest of the forest down a pathway that held skulls of all kinds, including humans one of which was still in a state of decaying half of his face bitten off revealing his crushed skull.
Illumileads you into a cave, with jagged rocks and water dripping in the background “ This your new home” Illumi puffed his chest proudly showing off the cave, you dread living in.
Illumi put you down analyzing your face “What’s wrong is it not to your liking?” he asked, you scratched you're arm but cringe when your hands scratched one of your cuts.
“ I don’t think it suitable for humans” you tried to explain, Illumi hummed as he wrapped around you once more. His hand placed on your chest pushing you down
Gently he laid you on the floor, his tail wrapped around your ankle, and pulling it spreading your legs wide open your face morphed from confusion to horror as you  looked up at Illumi” What are you doing?” You asked him.
Illum leaned down, his head resting on your thigh  “ I’m figuring out how you work” he explained his finger drifting up to your wants, you scream “No”.
You yell legs thrashing back and forth it only took one particularly hard tug on your ankle to shut you up, leaving you whimpering. Illumi's hand drifts to your shirt his nails sharpening again as he draws a line in the middle down to your waist cutting your shirt. 
Revealing your bra he tilted his head in confusion “What is the purpose of having two pair of clothes covering you?” he asked you couldn't answer with how hard you were breathing.
“ Humans are stupid creatures” Illumi concluded tearing off your bra and throwing it somewhere in the cave. He wrapped his hand around your glob, his sharp nails digging into your skin.
Illumi clicks his tongue forgetting to retract it he does just that, sharp nails going back to normal as he flicks your nubs. Rolling them around in his hand and needing them he hums pulling his head down, licking your breast pressing in harshly most likely giving you bruises in the morning
He wraps his mouth around it beginning to suck your right breast while needing the left letting go with an audible pop as he gave the same treatment to your twin.
You could feel your body heat rise, your face flushing, as a small wave of pleasure went over you. You didn’t want it if anything you wanted to stop.
Illumi didn’t care how took one hand off your breast, finger tiptoeing on your stomach and trailing down to your waist before arriving at your pussy, they spread apart your lips,  inspecting you, slender pale finger slowly pushed inside you squeal at the feeling,
 Illumi pulls it out to show a small dollop of white coating his finger.
Illumi tilts his head curiously shifting his head to be centered with your intimacy he licks you, the long slinder appendage making you keen, Black eyes examine you the void swallowing you whole.
He does another lick, saliva coating your pussy as juice slowly begins to flow “ You make a sound of pleasure when I touch this” he observed, pushing his tongue inside along with his fingers.
You cry out your hand trying to find something to grip as his tongue weaves its way through pleasure coursing In your body. illume's tongue was long and slender moving around experimentally and touching all  the right places 
His finger reached the rest of what he couldn’t, Scisorring you open with delicacy making you moan and groan, your pussy already wet running down his finger and making it slick.
Illumi hummed pulling his tongue out, and licking you one last time as he looks up at you. His body around to a more comfortable position.“ You taste fine this will be sufficient” He nodded before dividing back in, tongue experimenting with your tight heat with calm planned movement.
You cried at the icey feeling of his tongue entering you once more far deeper than before as he slips in another finger making tighter your wall and stretching to accommodate it.
Illumi doesn’t stop ruthless with his assault making sure you are as wet as possible he shoves another finger in with only the thumb left out you cry “It’s too much” you beg groping his hair and trying to pull him away.
He paid no mind to the tight tug on his hair, As you struggled to breathe your body was on fire, and he shove his thumb in next to your pussy stretched wider.
 Fully fisting you he takes his time exploring and grabbing pulling and shoving providing you, trying to figure out what makes you moan. His finger finally finds the sweet spot that has your curl toe.
Slowly your edge closer the heated inside of you becomes harder to ignore Illlumi pulls his fist out once more before slamming it deeper in his tongue curling around your clit and pulling on it.
You scream vision going white as your body bursts, you felt like you were floating as cum gushes out of your cunt invading Illumi's tongue.
He holds a small groan as he digs in deeper enjoying the taste of his mate, Illumi pulls out fully leaving your cunt empty as your high faded away.
You could still fill it throbbing begging for more you groan and cry as Illumi repositioned you interlacing your hands together. His cock unsheathing a thick pale vine that bulged, the tip flushed red as heat rushed into it, it throbbed a beed of precum dropping off it and splashing on your thigh.
Illumi drive in without a second thought slamming the tip inside and making you gasp at the large cock filling you better than his hand could ever, You scream your finger digging into his hand making crescent marks as Illumi shush you.
He pulls out slowly testing the water and slams back in rolling his hip in the process making you fill every inch of him before he pulls out once more slamming down another inch inside of you.
You felt dizzy hot and confused, your clit was throbbing the pleasure growin' on you rising again but not quite there. Illumi dives in again each thrust pushing another inch. He slams once more bottoming out making you cry out again as all  6 inches were inside of you making you feel full to full he slams in the tip hitting that special spot that has you non-stop moaning.
Illumi put his head on your shoulder kissing your cheek and any surface he could gather, as he slammed into you once more this one made you see white all over again.
Queling that need, you screamed at the top of your lung as pleasure passed through you like never before blinding and gorgeous you were in utter bliss.
You come back to your sense slowly the humming in your ear quiets down and your blissful states morph into fear as you realize he wasn’t stopping you cried out trying to pull him away, and his cock slamming in you became more painful.
You cringe at it diving inside of you “Stop it!” you cried out trying to shove him away struggling from his grasp you manage to put your hand on his chest pushing with all your strength you push. Illumi didn’t respond he just grabs your hands leading them to his cheek cold.
He leaned in kissing the inside of your palms as he continues “Not yet but I’m very close” he told you calmly and precisely. You noticed just how robotic his movement are slamming without shuddering or beaking tempo, his breath even, and his eyes hadn’t blinked once.
He slams once more breaking into your womb you panic praying to god he wouldn’t get you pregnant. Illumi's breathed hitches just for a moment he pauses, leaning over him as he monotonously whispers “I’m cumming”  he warned you
You could feel it traveling up small bump traveling up and entering your cunt plopping into your womb in a steady wave.
Your eye’s rolled to the back of your head at the weird feeling as more eggs were added to your stomach becoming small uneven bumps, You moaned.
Whilst Illumi combed through your hair as he soothed you, he twist his body to see your distended stomach touching it making you shiver from the way he pushed against he hummed “ Your doing good” he says pulling himself back to his original position.
“ I’m almost finished “ He added as the last egg fell you let out a breath of relief until he started moving again his hips slamming into your own making your body jolt with each movement. 
You could feel it growing rough as Illumi forgot his strength his head goes for your neck biting into you just as you felt him cum.
Hot white gunk splattered you inside and filled everything his eggs couldn’t, you screamed at the sweltering heat as it sputtered inside you for a decent minute.
Illumi stayed like that pulling his body from your hot sticky self and rearranging you once more, “ I’m excited to see our offspring,”  He says his icy cold scale wrapping around you as he enjoys his new furnace.  He held the smallest of a smile as you, drift off to sleep your tired body lay still eyes succumbing to rest the last thing you see were those giant black orbs devouring you.
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months
Note
Oooo please write fem reader gives her boyfriend Ken a golden retriever puppy as a gift
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A golden retriever for a golden retriever boyfriend. I’m here for it. 🦦
You were in the midst of getting everything set up when Ken came barging into your house, you mentally thanked yourself for remembering to unlock the front door, because last time he tried to barge into your house because you needed him, you both were having to pay Dr Barbie a visit for Ken’s injuries.
‘I got your text!’ Ken exclaimed, raising his phone in the air, slightly out of breath from having ran all the way here from the beach, ‘I’m here like you ask! What’s wrong? Where’s the danger?’ You looked at him as though he had grown a second head. ‘Did you seriously run-‘
‘All the way here? Yes.’ Ken replied.
‘Why-‘ you were genuinely baffled.
‘You needed me.’ Ken explained with a serious expression on his face, acting as though it was obvious that he was more then willing to drop everything for you, no matter how minor it was, he’s just glad he’s the first person you’d thought of to text. ‘You needed me and I knew that had to be there quickly. So I ran.’ He adds before shrugging his shoulders nonchalant.
Your heart softened at the thought that this man was more then willing to run across town for you, it’s romantic no doubt, but you found yourself growing more concerned about how he was still trying to catch his breath. ‘Ken. Honey, as sweet as that all is, why don’t you sit down and rest, you must be exhausted from all that running.’ You told him as you made your way to his side, grabbing his arm and bringing him to sit on one of the more comfortable plush chairs within your living room. ‘That actually sounds like a great idea.’ Ken groaned as he rested himself back against the plush cushioning but kept a hold of your hand, even going so far as to tightening his hold when he felt you try to slip away, groaning even more when you did manage to successfully pull away.
‘Why’d you do that? You big meanie.’ Ken whined and you couldn’t help but smile at his neediness before leaning over to press a kiss to his albeit sweaty forehead. ‘I have to go get your present, he’s really excited to meet you.’ You said as you pulled away from Ken, who only looked after you with curiosity until you were gone from his sight, leaving him to wonder what it was that you were getting up to as his head tilted to the side in confusion. Thankfully Ken didn’t have to wait that long to find out for as soon as his brain could comprehend it, there sat in his lap was a…
‘puppy!’ He exclaimed loudly as he good a good look at the beautiful golden retriever that was having trouble staying still with how the pup shifted from paw to paw, tail wagging at the speed of light that it was impossible to catch up with. Ken looked at you when you rented the room with a sweet smile upon your face. ‘You got me a puppy?!’ He was practically crying as he said this, holding the dog carefully under his arms, bringing him up to eye level, crying even more when the pup began vigorously licking his face. ‘This is the best day ever!’ Ken added, smiling wider then you have ever seen him smile before in your life.
It warmed your heart seeing Ken so happy and joyful that you couldn’t help but want to feel included in the fun as you knelt down beside the chair, resting your weight onto the arms of the chair. ‘I’m glad you like him because he’s going to be our little pup from now on.’ You told him as you watched Ken cuddle the pup close to his chest whilst it continued to licked away at under his jaw, but upon hearing your words made the blonde almost jump out of his seat.
‘He’s ours?’ Ken asked in a whisper as though he couldn’t believe this day getting any better.
You chuckled at his reaction, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you began to run your fingers across the puppy’s fur softly. ‘Yes, this little one is officially ours,’ you tell him. ‘All he needs is a name, any thoughts?’ You added, making direct eye contact with Ken as he thought on it really hard before finally coming up with an answer. ‘He shall be called Ken Jr.’ he proclaimed proudly, lifting the unsuspecting pup into the air for dramatic effect before then bringing him back into his chest to smother the pup- now dubbed Ken Jr- in even more affectionate cuddles.
‘Thank you Sweetheart.’ Ken told you.
‘For what?’ You asked him, subtly playing with one of Ken Jr’s paws.
‘For being with me and for giving me the most beautiful fur baby I have ever laid eyes on.’ He tells you and you couldn’t help but reach over, hold his face in your hands as you came and press a kiss to his lips, whispering, ‘only the best for my handsome Ken.’
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makncheese12 · 9 months
Text
Woe is me
Wednesday Addams x shifter!reader
Summary: Wednesday struggles with her feelings
Warnings: i honestly don’t know, slight angst if you squint, ooc! Wednesday Addams
A/N: the reason I posted so much today is because I probably won’t post much other than a few times so I did a few things last night and finished them up today, I will infact continue to keep updating as much as I can🫶🏻
I’m not really gonna make this into a series but more like HC’s and one-shots cause I really like the whole feel to it and I will be posting a part 3, don’t worry😭 it’s mostly because this whole thing needs a back bone.
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You sat on the bench in the quad, your limbs stretched out lazily as she basked in the rare warm sunlight. This was your favorite spot in the school, and you were glad to be able to spend some time here even in your cat form.
Being a black panther was no easy feat, and you had spent many months perfecting your abilities. But sometimes, you just couldn't help but feel helpless, like you were trapped in this form with your own body betraying you.
The way your human body gave out far too quickly from sickness and had to take time to heal was not helping at all either.
You sighed, feeling a pang of frustration at it all. Your fur ruffled as you tried to shift back into your human form, but it seemed that your energy reserves were too low. The transformation process was one that required a lot of concentration, and with your body feeling so depleted, it was almost impossible.
Your eyes began to droop as you drifted off into a small nap, the rhythmic thumping of your — suddenly — tiny heart the only sound you heard. You were almost grateful for the respite, even if it was just for a few moments, as it allowed you to forget about the constant struggle to keep control of your powers.
You didn't know how long you’d been there when suddenly, you felt a loud thud rumple into the ground and your head yanks up on the ready, already being vulnerable in your position.
Noticing it was just a group of werewolves messing around and tackling each other, your small body relaxes, closing your eyes and basking in the sun.
As you continue to rest on the bench, your eyes closed and breathing steady, two gorgon girls begin to approach you, drawn to the adorable cat that appears to be taking a peaceful nap.
"Oh my god, it's so cute!" one of the girls exclaims, pointing at you as she continues to walk towards the bench.
"I know, right?" the other girl replies, her eyes glued to you as well. "Can we pet it? It looks so cuddly!"
Your ears perk up at the sound of their voices, and you open your eyes to see the girls approaching. You suddenly seem to enjoy the attention you’re suddenly getting, tail swaying back and forth as you stand and stretch your back up to prepare yourself for them.
Before you have a chance to protest, one of the girls reaches out and begins to scratch behind your ears and immediately start to purr at the feeling.
As you feels the girls start to pet you, you’re completely relaxes into their touch, loving the feeling of their hands on your fur, and can't help but enjoy the attention they're giving you.
As the first two girls continue to pet you, they're joined by other students, noticing the way the two girls are crouching down by a black fur ball they couldn’t help themselves. Before long, you’re surrounded by a group of people, all of them giving you attention and love.
If they knew you were human, they’d act differently but as of now, you were just a stray cat that occasionally wandered inside their school.
But you don’t seem to mind, in fact, you seem to be eating it up. Your eyes close again, and you can’t help but purr softly, enjoying the feeling of their hands against your fur as they pet and scratch you. You strangely feel safe and comfortable in this moment, surrounded by the warmth of these people.
As the petting zoo group continues to grow, a mixture of amazed students in awe, all drawn to the adorable black cat in the middle of the quad, you can't help but feel a sense of happiness in this moment.
As for Wednesday, she couldn’t stand what she was seeing as she stood there, feeling a strange mixture of emotions wash over her. On one hand, she was feeling a deep sense of protectiveness towards you, a feeling that she had rarely ever experienced before and only reserved for certain people — her family. On the other hand, she found herself feeling a twinge of jealousy, a feeling that she had never been comfortable with or rather no one has.
She had always tried to keep her emotions in check, to maintain a veneer of stoicism and cool detachment that had become second nature to her. But now, as she watched those around her ‘pet’ and coo over it, it was as if a dam inside her had suddenly burst, and all of the feelings that she had been trying to repress were finally starting to come to the surface.
Wednesday knew that she had to do something, to take control of the situation before it escalated out of hand. But she wasn't entirely sure what to do. She knew that she couldn't just let those people keep petting you, but she also didn't want to make a scene and draw attention to herself.
As she stood there, lost in her own thoughts, Enid appeared beside her, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Isn't that the cat that keeps coming to our dorm?" she asked, gesturing towards you, who was still purring and enjoying the attention.
Wednesday's face twisted into a scowl, but before she could respond, she was interrupted by the arrival of more students, all drawn to the adorable black cat. She watched as they continued to pet you, her eyes narrowing as she felt these feelings within her reach boiling point.
In that moment, Wednesday knew that she had to act, to take control of the situation before things got out of hand. She turned to Enid, her voice laced with a sarcasm that she couldn't mask. "Yes, that's the cat," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "And if you don't want to end up on the wrong end of her claws, I suggest you not go and pet her but rather get out of here before things get ugly.”
Enid, unphased by Wednesday's coldness, simply smiled. "Whatever you say, Willa." the blonde says as her eyes travel back to you, on a mission to get through the crowd to pet you herself.
Wednesday rolled her eyes before looking back to you, eyes narrowed as she felt the feelings within her come crashing down around her like a tsunami. She had never been so overwhelmed by her emotions before, and it was a feeling that she didn't know how to handle.
She needed to get away, to get some alone time to process everything that was going on inside her. She turned to Enid, her voice sharp. "I need to be alone right now," she said, her eyes fixed on Enid with a look that she knew would make her not question her and back off.
Without another word, Wednesday turned and stormed off towards her dorm in Ophelia Hall, her boots stomping against the tile as she went. She needed to get away from everyone, to be alone with her thoughts and her feelings.
She knew that she needed to confront the feelings that were eating her up inside, to figure out why they were there and what she was going to do about them. But she also knew that she needed some time to herself before she could even begin to tackle those questions.
As she walked out of the quad, her mind racing with thoughts and emotions, she couldn't shake the feeling that something inside her was starting to change, that the control that she had always had over her emotions was starting to slip away. And that scared her more than anything.
————
You sighed heavily, feeling the weight of Wednesday's silence pressing down on you. You knew that Wednesday was going through something, and you wanted nothing more than to help her, to be there for her. But Wednesday refused to open up to you, she seemed to get like this often so it wasn’t a surprise.
As you watched Wednesday type away on her typewriter with her characteristic focus, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and concern. You wanted to be there for Wednesday, to help her through whatever she was going through, but it was clear that Wednesday wasn't ready to share her burdens yet. And that’s was made it all the more frustrating.
So, instead, you decided to sit down next to Wednesday's chair and just be there for her and wait, in case she ever decided to reach out and talk. You let yourself be present, focusing on your breathing to not disturb her and trying to stay calm and patient. Even though you desperate wanted to know what was going on, you knew that forcing Wednesday to talk would only push her away further.
As the minutes turned into hours, Wednesday continued to type away, her nose buried in the paper she was typing as her eyes stayed on the letters and paper. You watched her closely, hoping to pick up on some subtle cue that would reveal her thoughts and feelings, but Wednesday's expression remained focused, revealing nothing of what was happening inside her head. Only fueling your concern and frustration. Wednesday always had a blank expression you couldn’t read so it didn’t exactly help.
It wasn't until late at night that Wednesday finally seemed to stop, taking a deep breath and sitting up in a straighter position. You felt a flutter of hope in your heart, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Wednesday was finally ready to share what was on her mind.
But instead of saying anything, Wednesday merely cleaned up her surroundings and put her written pages away, stretching and standing up from her chair. "I'm going to bed," she said, her voice neutral.
You felt a pang of disappointment in your chest, but you didn't want to push it. You knew that Wednesday would talk when she was ready, and you weren’t about to pressure her into opening up before she was ready.
So, instead, you simply nodded, your eyes following Wednesday as she stood up from her chair and made her way to her closet to get ready for bed. You watched as Wednesday closed the door behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the dorm.
You let out a sigh before getting up and leaving the dorm, perhaps you would be more lucky tomorrow.
————
As you lay asleep in your dorm, there was a sudden sense of unease that settled into her before something pinches your arm gently. You snapped awake with a start, startled to see Wednesday standing over you, her eyes blank as usual.
You lay there, staring up at Wednesday, trying to make sense of what was going on. "Wednesday," you say quietly, your heart racing. "What are you doing here?"
Wednesday didn't respond, just stand there, staring down at you. After what felt like really long moments, Wednesday spoke, her voice low and slightly trembling, something most wouldn’t notice but you were quick to hear it being so used to Wednesday cold and harsh tone.
"I'm confused," she said, her words come out quick as she continues to stare down at you. "I don't understand what I'm feeling."
You felt a pang of concern in your chest, seeing the frustration and confusion on Wednesday's face. "What do you mean?" You ask, keeping your voice gentle.
Wednesday struggled for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "It's you," she said finally. "It's the way you make me feel."
You felt a shock of something she couldn’t explain as she sat up, realizing that Wednesday was talking about the feelings she had for you, in a way? But Wednesday continued before you could say anything.
"I don't understand what this is," she said, her voice still low. "I don't understand these feelings. I don't know what to do with them. I don't know how to handle them."
You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to Wednesday open up to you.
You had never seen Wednesday like this before, struggling with her emotions, unsure of what to do for once. It was clear that she had been internalising these feelings for a long time, and now, they were all coming out in a rush.
"It's okay," you tell her softly, reaching out to take her hand. "It's okay to be confused. It's okay to not understand what you're feeling."
Wednesday looked at you, her expression still blank, as if she couldn't quite believe what you were saying. She didn’t understand it after all.
You felt a twinge of sadness at Wednesday's reaction, but you didn't let it show. So you continue to hold Wednesday's hand, hoping to offer her some comfort and support.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask, voice gentle.
Wednesday hesitated, and then finally, she nodded, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what's happening," she said, her voice now full on trembling. "I don't know why I feel like this."
You feel your heart ache, seeing the turmoil and confusion on Wednesday's face. You didn’t know how to explain it to her, how to tell her that these emotions were normal and why she was feeling them, this was perhaps a parents job. You didn't have all the answers, but you knew that you could be there for Wednesday, could offer her a listening ear and a supportive shoulder to lean on.
"It's okay," you say again, voice still soft. "It's okay to feel things that you don't understand. It's okay to be confused."
Wednesday let out a deep sigh, and you could see the tension leave her body just a little bit. She was still confused, still struggling to make sense of her feelings, but at least now she knew that she had someone in her corner, someone who cared about her and was willing to be there for her, no matter what.
You knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, that this was a moment that you’d both remember for a long time to come. As you sit there, holding Wednesday's hand, you couldn’t help but smile up at her. Fangs slightly bearing as you rub your thumb gently over her palm.
And then, without warning, Wednesday leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, the kiss soft and gentle. It was a moment that you always had been hoping for, but never quite expecting, as Wednesday had never initiated a kiss before, leaving you to do all the work for her.
You felt a thrill of excitement and wonder wash over you as your lips met, your lips pressed together in a moment of rare and private affection. It was a moment that you would never forget, a moment that would forever be etched in your memory.
As the kiss came to an end you broke away, your heart racing and your mind reeling with the emotions of the moment. You looked up at Wednesday, your eyes bright with gratitude and love.
Wednesday let out a small sigh as you pulled her into bed, a small hint of annoyance lingering on her face. As you laid her down, her crossed her arms over her chest and looked away from you, acting as if she didn't want to be there.
"You should really get some sleep," you say softly, putting an arm over the smaller girls stomach that sends spiders crawling all through out her stomach.
Wednesday let out another small sigh, but this time it sounded less annoyed and more resigned. She tilted her head to the side, leaning into your embrace.
"Fine," Wednesday said, her voice softer than usual. "But I'm still not happy about it."
You chuckled softly. “When are you ever?” You tease only to earn a glare that disappeared quickly as rubbing your macabre girlfriends stomach in a gentle motion. "You don't have to be happy. Just get some rest."
Wednesday closed her eyes, sinking further into your embrace. After a few moments, she took a deep her body relaxing into the bed. You knew there was more than she was letting on but that could wait until the morning, you were just glad she opened up just a little.
A/N: please tell me if you see any mistakes or things that should be worked on!
Tagslist: @raven-ss @devarajah @natashasapphic @pamoresworld @canyonyodeler @paladinncleric @2silverchain
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sunboki · 8 days
Text
— ENDLESS WINTER. TEASER a Christopher Bahng fiction
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Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst
WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing
WORD COUNT. estimated around 12k
AUG'S NOTES. me and my inner thoughts… as a fic 😭 i cannot believe this is my longest writing yet!!! hopefully you enjoy!
SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.
alternatively :
Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.
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Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.
Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.
Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.
Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.
She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.
Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.
Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.
Growing, learning.
Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.
However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.
A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.
Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.
Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.
Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.
Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.
The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.
The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.
Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.
Had been peaceful.
A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.
Your blood runs cold.
Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.
Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.
Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.
A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.
Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.
Smell.
Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.
So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.
Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.
Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.
Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.
Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.
It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.
Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.
It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.
Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.
For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.
You won’t leave, simple.
As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.
That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.
Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.
Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.
Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.
Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.
A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.
Shoot!
The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.
However, your success is short-lived.
Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.
Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.
First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.
Beast.
With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.
This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.
“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.
His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.
The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.
Mage.
Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.
His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.
“One remained, huh.”
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
237 notes · View notes
bunniesanddeer · 25 days
Note
I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?
Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.
Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.
So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.
He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.
Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor
You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you
Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)
Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3
Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.
Challenge
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst
Word Count: 2,839
When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.
In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.
At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 
He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.
“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”
Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.
“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 
Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”
Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 
How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.
Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!
The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.
“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.
“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 
“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.
“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”
Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”
You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 
“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.
“I will never get over how cool that is!” 
He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 
Then it happens.
You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.
“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.
“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 
“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.
“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”
You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”
Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?
You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 
“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.
Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.
His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 
“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”
Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”
Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”
You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”
“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”
The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.
“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 
“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 
“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.
When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.
“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 
“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 
“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 
You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 
Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.
The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.
“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”
Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 
You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”
If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 
One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.
“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”
He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”
“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.
Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 
“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”
Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.
Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.
It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 
“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”
“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.
You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”
Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 
“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”
Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 
“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 
You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 
This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 
Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!
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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
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Beloved Monsters
So, it happened! I've finally brought Alethaine, Astarion's dhampir daughter, to life!
Synopsis: Domestic fluff about a small family of monsters.
Tags: fluff, comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs
Alethaine's age: 7
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
“Mum! Mum!”
As you open your eyes, the coziness of your bed with a fur blanket and the softest pillow surrounds you. It feels so comfy, like a warm hug. 
“Mum!”
A pale-skinned Elven girl with hair the color of snow stares at you like a cat. She stands upside down on the ceiling as if her legs were glued to it.
“Hi, Alethaine. Is anything wrong?”, you yawn and look at the window. It’s late afternoon and it's snowing. Winters in that part of Faerun are cold and merciless but nights are long. Which is good.
Alethaine, your dhampir-daughter, jumps onto the bed and you notice she’s already put on her warm clothes. Unlike Astarion, she is not immune to cold.
“Can I go? Pleeease!”
You sit up and hear a loud laughter from the inner yard. The town kids. Mostly humans, but Alethaine’s best friend is a dwarf boy, an Innkeeper’s son. All younger than ten, careless and brave like all the kids of this age no matter the race and social status.
“Cover your ears”, you say, making yourself get out of bed. You hate being stuck at home for so long – your body craves fights – but having a little child puts certain limitations.
“Thanks!”, Alethaine bares her fangs.
For the last month, you’ve been alone with Alethaine. Astarion left in the late month of Uktar, complaining that he didn’t want to travel in that awful northern weather and that there is nothing more disgusting than autumn. 
“It’s cold and I will have to sleep in the dirt. Besides, hags are “known” for their hospitality!”
Simple as that. A daughter of one of the noble families fell in love with someone from the common folk. He rejected her, and she made a deal with a hag to get him. The hag turned the girl into something and locked away. So, her family searched for help and eventually got to Astarion – the only person who knew how to deal with both supernatural contracts and the monsters themselves.
“Well, I will either find a loophole to save this idiot of a girl. Or I will have to fight the hag. Not the first time. Gods, good thing Alethaine is going to be much smarter than that!”
You smile. Since Alethaine was born, Astarion has been very sensitive about cases when a young woman, someone’s daughter, is trapped by supernatural forces. Astarion can deny it but he imagines Alethaine trapped the same way.
“Alethaine! Where are you?”, the dwarf boy throws a snowball into the door with a loud thump.
“Coming!”
Astarion was supposed to come back a week ago. Before Alethaine was born you had dealt with such things together. Be it a monster hunting or helping with contracts. But life changed seven years ago. 
You two became parents.
A little girl, a silver-curled elf with long pointy ears, is so delicate as if made of crystals. She has long vampiric fangs and can walk on the ceilings. A tiny copy of her father — Astarion was in tears when he realized that. 
“Bye!”, Alethaine wears her warm winter coat and hat but her long ears stick out.
“Cover them!”
“It hurts when I do that!”
You sigh. Elven ears are so sensitive it hurts to tuck them under heavy winter hats. As a half-elf yourself you can relate though yours are much smaller.
You take a scarf and wrap your daughter’s head in it. By doing that you can’t resist touching her ears which twitch a bit. The girl giggles, baring her fangs. It’s a funny image – the dhampir fangs grew up many years ago and didn’t show any signs of being “baby fangs”. They were probably a single set for all her life which will last for many centuries, growing along with the rest of her body.
But her “baby” incisors have already fallen out.
“Alethaine! Come on!” the dwarf boy waves to her. Alethaine frees herself from your hands and rushes toward her friends.
The moment she is outside, she takes the scarf freeing her ears to the cold air. 
You let it go. 
Sticking at home on your own is boring so you take out a two-handed ax and go outside to take care of it. You never know when the weapon is needed. Here, far in the wilderness dangers lurk in the dark. Wild trolls, gnolls, werewolves, bandits, name it yourself. Townsfolk aren’t people of war and they rely on you, a retired adventurer, to protect them. 
So, you always have to be ready.
The process completely takes you over as the early night falls upon the world and prickly stars start shining in the skies.
And then suddenly…
You are lifted in the air by strong hands.
“Astarion!” you exclaim and wrap your hands around his neck.
He kisses you and then looks into your eyes with love and adoration. But you can’t help but notice he is exhausted, with bruises and dark circles under his crimson eyes.
“Did something go wrong?”
“Darling, there was an obnoxious princess who could not take “no” for an answer, her brother who doesn’t process the idea that he is not as smart as he thinks. And three hags. Three, not one! And each of them had a personal contract with the girl, each contradicting the other one. What could possibly go wrong?”
“So, did you save the girl?”
“Depends. She won’t have to spend another five centuries being locked in a mirror. But she will be the hags’ servant for eighteen years, six for each of them. They also wanted to transform her into something I would call a half-rotten gnoll, but I managed to talk them out of it.”
“Two decades is long for a human.”
“Well, she wanted to make that boy her mindless lover for the rest of his human life so I think it’s fair. Her family didn’t agree, though, so I had to return on my own.”
“Did they pay you?”
“No, I stole some valuable possession of theirs”, he puts you on the ground and slips a ring on your finger. “It’s not enchanted, I checked.”
The ring is beautiful. It looks as if the fire was trapped inside it.
You two kiss again and get inside. The moment Astarion steps into the bedroom he starts undressing – he probably has been dreaming of getting rid of the dirty clothes for weeks. 
You smile. You’ve seen him undressing and naked thousands of times but you never get tired of it.
“I’ve seen Alethaine. She made those human children carry her on the sled,” he says.
 “If they don’t treat her well, who would sneak to other people’s houses to steal sweets?”
It is a common complaint. Apparently, Alethaine learned that if her feet are bare she makes no sound walking on the ceilings.
“I am tearing apart against the necessity to punish her for that and admiring her skills”, Astarion adds.
“You were a magistrate; I think you can find words to persuade a seven-year-old.”
“It’s much easier to persuade a devil than Alethaine!”
“Who could she take it from?”
He laughs and you approach Astarion for another kiss. You missed him. Gods knows, you missed him. You caress his strong shoulders ready to start something more sensual.
“Love”
“Hm?”
“I don’t want to.”
You pull away and touch his cheek. There aren’t enough words in your vocabulary to express how proud you are of him. It’s been twenty-seven years but he still has issues with saying “no” to you. And you often find yourself in an intimate situation when you suddenly realize he doesn’t want to take part in it. Maybe, not to upset you. Maybe, out of stubbornness.
“Sure. What do you want, then? Bath? Blood? Sleep?”
“Everything you mentioned in that exact order.”
“Wait, I will prepare the bath.”
… Soon enough, Astarion sinks himself into the bathtub and you start washing his curls out of dirt while he scrubs his skin. You notice some bruises and scratches. They still haven’t healed properly and you try not to think how they looked a week ago.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like I was butchered”, he answers, noticing your concerns.
“I wish I could come with you.”
“Darling. Alethaine is growing faster than a kitten – soon she will be old enough to be on her own. We will be doing this together again.”
You smile. Yes, that’s true. As a half-elf, you have much more time than humans. You are sixty-three, your human siblings are either long dead or very old. But you still look like you did when you were twenty. You have more than a century of life ahead. Plenty of time. For adventures, for miracles, for everything. Maybe, even for another child. 
You spend what looks like a pleasant eternity like this. Talking, laughing, smiling. At least twice Astarion takes your hand graciously and drinks blood from your wrists. His bruises and scratches immediately heal. Whatever blood he managed to take in the winter woods wasn’t enough.
When the water gets cold, Astarion gets out and dresses in clean clothes, a white shirt with an embroidered dragon and black trousers. 
… Together you sit in front of the fireplace. Astarion hugs you and you silently look at the fire. 
A loud thump wakes you from bliss. 
“Dad!” Alethaine cries out and in a moment the girl is on her father's lap.
“Hello, princess,” he stands up, lifting the girl in the air. You notice her ears have a purple color. “I see your teeth keep falling out”
Altethaine grins. And Astarion plants a gentle fatherly kiss on her forehead.
“Wait a moment, I brought you something” He puts Alethaine back on her feet, and she yawns like a cat. 
Astarion pulls out two books out of his travel sack. Alethaineimmediately opens the first one. You can see pictures and intricate Elven letters – despite being a half-elf you never learned how to read it, meanwhile Alethaine had learned to read and write both Common and Elven before she turned five.
“Is it Elven?” she asks. “I can’t understand what is written!”
“It’s Old Elven. A little bit different from the one we speak.”
Alethaine opens the other book and sees an image of an Elven woman with long silver hair, and dark eyes.
“She looks like me,” Alethaine says,
“Yes, that’s what I thought.”
You look at them unable to stop smiling. Monsters. A vampire and a dhampir. 
Your beloved monsters. The daughter and the husband. Sometimes you treat them like something given – besides, what is more “traditional” for a mortal woman than a child and a spouse? But Astarion never forgets, even for a moment, that these normal things are supposed to be impossible. He isn’t supposed to have a home, a wife, and a child. 
You remember him crying with the newborn in his arms. Mere seven years ago. You remember coming back from a “dragon slaying travel” in the middle of the night to see Astarion and Alethaine sliding down a hill together. You remember his stare – which he gives you every single morning. The look of adoration, love, and gratitude. 
The girl yawns once again, and you notice how sleepy she is. 
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” the girl pouts. “I wanna sleep.”
“Oh, all right then. But come downstairs if you feel hungry”, Astarion strokes her silver hair.
Alethaine approaches you and wraps her hands around your neck. You feel a soft prickle of her fangs on your shoulder. 
“Have a good sleep, kitten”, you say.
Alethaine snatches both of the books from the table and goes away. Unlike Elven children, Alethaine does sleep. Like a predator, deep in her dreams but waking up a moment something off happens. 
“So, I think we should follow her example”, Astarion lifts you up in the air bridal style. “It’s tediously boring to sleep alone, do you agree?”
You giggle. When Astarion leaves, Alethaine doesn’t let you sleep alone. She crawls into her parents' bed and hugs you from behind pressing her little nose into your back. Anyone would think the girl is afraid of darkness or monsters.
But it’s not that.
Alethaine, a half-monster herself, sincerely believes her mother needs to be protected. And if Astarion isn’t at home, it’s her duty to make sure nothing comes after you. Maybe you slay monsters with your two-handed ax but who knows what night can hide? 
You caress Astarion’s cheek.
“Yes, how could I even fall asleep without my beloved monsters?”
--
Tag list
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starogeorgina · 8 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.01
“Ivar!”
“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”
“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”
“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”
“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.
Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.
You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”
“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”
Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.
“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”
“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”
“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”
“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”
Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.
It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.
You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.
It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.
Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.
“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.
You shrug.
“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”
Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”
Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”
“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”
“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”
A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”
Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.
“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.
Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.
“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”
“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”
His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”
“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”
“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”
You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”
Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.
“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.
Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”
Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”
Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”
He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.
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slutforsilverfoxes · 7 months
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Two Dirty Martinis and One Olive(r)
[A continuation of Oliver with a Twist 🖤]
—————
“I just miss him so much,” you sniffle, scrolling through an album simply yet effectively titled with the olive emoji and a green heart. “Do you think he knows that I’m coming home? Or do you think that he thinks he’s getting abandoned over and over again? Oh my gosh, that’s so sad,” you lament aloud, bottom lip trembling while you stare into your cat’s soulful eyes on the dim screen.
“How much has she had to drink?” Aaron murmurs to JJ as you continue pining for your fur baby and talking Emily’s ear off across the table.
“Well, none of us really ate today, and she’s had one green tea shot and one-” The blonde grimaces as you down the rest of your glass and amends, “Make that two dirty martinis.”
You pop the singular olive swimming in the last dregs of the alcohol into your mouth before your eyes grow comically wide. “I just ate my son,” you declare, your statement accompanied by a gasp.
Aaron smooths a hand over his face to resist laughing at your antics and excuses himself to get you a glass of water. Leaning against the bar while waiting for a bartender to become available, he studies the way you talk so animatedly, emphasizing your thoughts with your hands, and the way everyone around the table has an easy smile on their faces while they listen to you. This team has always felt like family, but your presence has made them complete.
He can’t help but think of his own little family of two, and he wonders how Jack would feel about a new special friend in his dad’s life. Aaron’s seen the way you interact with children on cases, and he has no doubt that you and Jack would get along exceptionally well. Plus you have a pet? His son would be elated to have a cat to-
“What can I get for you, sir?”
He’s abruptly pulled from his daydream of the two of you coming home from a case to your two-legged and four-legged sons, the back of his neck heating up as he turns to face the bartender. Clearing his throat, he requests, “Just an ice water, please. Thank you.”
Beverage in hand, Hotch overhears the last of your statement to your best friend on his return to the table, “…would be nice to come home to a man.” Emily raises an eyebrow at him over your head sleepily nestled in the crook of her neck, and he fixes her with a look that clearly reads Don’t you dare.
She dares.
“Any man?” the brunette smugly prompts.
“There is this one guy,” you confess in what you believe to be a whisper but in reality is heard clear as day by the whole table. You let out a hum and a dreamy smile spreads across your face. “He’s perfect. At least, I think so.”
Aaron focuses intently on a bead of condensation running down the glass holding your ice water, fighting the urge to confess his love for you right here and right now in front of the team. His other option, which isn’t looking entirely unfavorable, is to place the drink on the table and flee the scene.
“But he’s so dumb,” you announce with a huff of frustration, and Hotch swears the world around him comes to a dead halt with a record scratch.
Stifling a laugh at the way the man in question’s sheepish smile has immediately melted into a frown, JJ inquires, “How so, hon?”
“I mean, what’s taking him so long?” you demand. “I’m pretty cute, I think. I’m clearly single thanks to this fuckin’ job. And I’m-” You wave your hands around in front of you before clarifying your meaning, “-putting out all the signals, y’know?”
“Well, why don’t you just ask him out, mamas?” Derek offers. Your girlfriends’ heads swivel in his direction with narrowed eyes, and he shows his palms in mock deference, mumbling a placating, “Damn, okay,” around the lip of his beer bottle.
A sigh rattles out of you as if Morgan has grievously inconvenienced you before you explain, “I can’t, dummy.”
“Why not?”
Aaron can’t wait to hear this.
Your best friend rushes to cover your mouth before you say something you’ll regret when sober while Penelope and JJ jump in to change the subject, but your muffled voice escapes through Emily’s fingers anyway. “HR says fraternization between a unit chief and their agent is a big no-no,” you elaborate, stretching out the word for emphasis. Aaron’s palm is damn near frozen now from stupidly standing there holding the glass, but his feet simply won’t move. “And trust me,” you carry on, bowling over Emily’s desperate attempts to shush you, “I wanna fraternize with that man,” you declare giddily.
Aaron clears his throat to announce his presence, hoping that the dim lighting in the bar will mask his pink-tinged cheeks. You turn to see him standing there and your face splits into a wide grin, your alcohol-addled brain seemingly not connecting that he bore witness to the entirety of your confession. “Hotch!” you cry happily. “You’re back! And you brought me a water,” you sigh, reaching for the glass.
“Figured you could use it,” he mumbles quietly, pulse racing when your fingers brush as the glass exchanges hands.
You assert, “You’re the sweetest ever,” and he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at that.
The girls are studiously avoiding eye contact with him while Derek is staring at him, dumbstruck, and Spencer is quietly calculating the odds of you two confessing your feelings to each other before the night is over with a small smile on his face.
Hotch finds himself really wishing Dave hadn’t turned in early tonight. Or that he, too, had embraced being a senior member of the team and gone to bed instead of celebrating closing this case over drinks.
“Y’gonna just stand there all night?” you ask sweetly before patting the spot in the booth beside you. Aaron looks to his original seat to find that JJ and Penelope, still averting their eyes, have somehow shifted to the edge of the booth, leaving virtually no room for him to squeeze back in on their side.
Equal parts hesitant and hopeful, he slides into the space next to you feeling like a schoolboy with a raging crush when his leg tingles at the spot where the warmth of your thigh seeps through his slacks.
Oblivious to his racing pulse and thoughts, you lean your elbow against the tabletop and your cheek against your palm, looking up at him with a soft smile and a simple, “Hi there.”
“Hi, Y/N,” he murmurs back, and you gasp, “You said my name!”
“I say your name all the time,” he argues.
“Nu uh,” you protest, “it’s always Y/L/N or Agent or Agent Y/L/N.”
He hums in response, unwilling to admit that your name on his lips makes his brain a little fuzzy and his hands a little shaky.
“I like when you say my name,” you confess in a whisper, and Aaron can actually feel his heart swelling when you look at him like that, like he hung all the stars in the sky just for you.
In all honesty, if that’s what you wanted, he would defy gravity to make it happen.
“How’s Ollie doing?” he asks to change the subject, needing you to talk about something that makes you happy so he can keep seeing that beautiful smile on your face.
“Oh my gosh, so good!” you squeal excitedly. “He’s so, so smart. I taught him to sit and shake before meal time. Wanna see?”
“Of course,” Aaron smiles.
With a sly grin, you negotiate, “I’ll show you my kid if you show me yours,” and Aaron’s heart is now trying to actually escape out of his chest. “You…want to see pictures of Jack?”
“Of course,” you echo back. “How could anybody not love that little cutie? He’s got your dimples, y’know.” Your concentration shifts to your phone then, looking for the video of Oliver offering you his paw while Aaron sits there with a goofy smile on his face that has those very dimples making a rare appearance.
The next morning, armed with the logic that you’ll surely need to stave off a hangover, Aaron knocks on your hotel room door and asks you out to breakfast before your flight back home.
—————
Find the third & final part of Aaron, reader, & Oliver's story here!
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner
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vampyrsm · 4 months
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‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER FOURTEEN | YUKI ONNA
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‣‣ Synopsis: Our tale continues down in the depths of a village that had burned to the ground, and within are enemies of the unknown and creatures that seem to be what they are not. A Queen surrounded by Rooks is quite a sorry state indeed.
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‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 6k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, fighting scenes, descriptions of wounds, gore, dark thoughts, cursed energy usage, cursed spirits, body horror.
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Snow crunches beneath your feet, so loud in the dead of night with nothing but the moon as witness to your descent from the temple, from your home. It guides you along the snow-covered rocky path, lighting the way as you watch the fox dance between the shadows. 
The fur of pure white blends in perfectly with the snow, only the blackened tips of its otherwise white ears aid you in keeping track of the creature. It no longer whimpers, nor does it screech like it had. Instead, it bounds in leaps, the lameness in its paw long forgotten. Perhaps that should’ve been a warning sign, perhaps that should’ve given you pause to turn back towards the temple and seek refuge in the safety of Sukuna’s arms.
But something within you urges you to follow the Shikigami, perhaps the child it belonged to had taught it how to tell others its owner was injured. 
So down the mountainside you go, following until you reach the scorched Torii gate you had passed through so many moons ago. It stands just as ominously as it once had before, an entrance to the burned village that lay abandoned at the foot of Sukuna’s temple. 
The snow has long stopped floating around you, the snowstorm seeming to evaporate into thin air to be replaced with an eerie stillness that settles onto the village. As if even the wind doesn’t wish to further bring this village to ruin. 
A whimpering cry has your eyes drifting away from the scorched marks on the Torii gate, only to find the fox has leapt further into the village — calling for you to follow. Your hand itches at your side, wanting to wrap around the blade you had foolishly forgotten in the safety of your bedroom.
With apprehension settling into your gut, your foot passes over the threshold of the village and you take steady steps after the fox. It doesn’t move from where it sits in the centre of the courtyard, beside a ruined shrine that once would’ve been the main offering place of the village. Its tail swoops around to cover its small paws, and it stares up at you when you grow closer.
“Where’s your master?” You ask, almost dumbly, you don’t expect the creature to reply but to rather guide you. Instead, it tilts its head, pointy ears flopping slightly before its eyes glance off towards the side.
The air shifts almost immediately, a pressure that climbs along your spine and tingles at the back of your skull. You don’t move from your position in front of the fox, instead, you only slowly turn to glance over your shoulder.
Five figures stand at the entrance of the village, to the entrance of Sukuna’s temple. 
Each of them is clad in black clothing, dark armour covering the important parts. They wear no sigils, with no honoured helmets to signify who they fight for. Instead, they wear only simple black masks to cover the lower half of their faces. Immediately, you can tell the one at the front is a woman and the rest are men. 
A set-up. That darkness within you whispers, coils painfully tight in your chest until it threatens to burst. Your eyes flicker over each of them, their souls burdened with a darkness that can only be granted when you take the life of another. They were most definitely not Samurai, nor were they ninjas that belonged to the Emperor.
Assassins. 
“Don’t act hastily.” The woman at the front speaks, and her hands remain displayed at her sides. She bears no weapons, but you doubt she uses weapons to subdue her victims. “The Shogun has requested your return.”
To return to your uncle would be the same as impaling yourself on your own sword. He did not want you to return in the hopes of you rejoining the family, he wanted you back to punish you for disgracing the Zen’in clan. 
Your eyes drift away from the woman at the front, you observe the others with her. One has dual swords strapped to his back, curved and glinting in the moonlight – something about them told you they held their own power. Another is cloaked in what looks like moving darkness, a thick black fog that curls around his body to hide him almost completely from vision. The other two are armed with regular katanas, yet their stature shows they are anything but your regular samurai.
You had to get out of there. Now.
That darkness within you grapples for control, shoving down any rationality on what you were about to do. It happens before you can even blink, you fling your arm out in their direction with your fingers splayed out. You feel it cut at your palm before the energy bursts forth from your hand and slices through the air, there’s a sudden rise in cursed energy from the ones who have come to take you back. No doubt one of their cursed techniques had to do with defence; they had to protect their own.
In the midst of their shock at the sudden attack, you twist on your heel; unaware of the white fox that now sat atop the shrine with its eyes now a brilliant gold colour. The air around you quietens, and the shouts of those who had come under attack fall silent before you vanish from the spot you’re in. 
The air around you shifts and snaps back into place when you can no longer feel the pressure of their cursed energy nipping at your heels. You find yourself further into the burnt-out village, dilapidated houses falling to ruin around you. You had no way of knowing where to go, or more importantly, which way would lead you back around towards the entrance to Sukuna’s temple.
“There’s no use hiding!” A man shouts from somewhere in the darkness, and the cruel amusement in his tone has your stomach churning. 
You dart into the nearest house, stepping on the parts of the ground that had been protected from the snow. The moonlight guides you over broken beams and through ripped shoji doors. A quick glance around tells you that this was a family home, snow-covered teddies and destroyed blankets are atop of a futon that had once been a safe place for children. Something painful churns in your chest at the thought, the last slither of your humanity tugging at your heartstrings.
You’re careful with each step until you find yourself crouched into the darkest corner you could find, you press your back to the still sturdy wall of the house. It’s silent outside, with no wind or creatures of the night wishing to disturb what seems to be slowly unfolding in the village. 
Moments pass by slowly, and you chance a risky glance through the window up above. Your fingers hook against the cold wood, and you slowly raise until just your eyes are visible. The snow outside is undisturbed, no footsteps to tell you that you have been tracked down. 
Something shifts, however, and you take a glance upwards. You watch as a thick darkness seeps from the sky, the stars wink out one by one and the moon is hidden from your view by a wall of thick black. What was that?
“Come out, demon whore! We’ll be nice, we swear.” A man lilts from the newfound darkness, new shadows form in places they couldn’t before with the moon above. Yet you do not see the man who calls out for you, his cursed energy is off in the distance. Not too far from where you could make a run for it, but he wasn’t aware of where you were.
A crunch of snow has your head snapping in the other direction, it’s a single footstep. Then another. Slow and steady. It grows closer and closer, each step slower than the next. You immediately drop back into the shadows, a hand clamping over your mouth and nose to smother any breaths that would dare to give up your position. 
Something grabs at the wooden frame of the shoji door that you had entered through, in the darkness you can only make out the heaviness of a solid form filling the doorway. It stands there for a moment, completely still, and you wait for the unknown figure to leap for you. 
Instead, the shadowed figure hums. A womanly hum. It sends shivers shooting down your spine, freezing you into place when that figure starts to move closer once again. It climbs over the discarded blankets and ripped paper on the floor as if it had climbed over them a million times before.
As it grows closer, you can hear the rasp behind its hum and the stench that follows it. It’s a sickly sweet smell, like fruit that was too ripe. The figure stops before you, and with it being closer you can make out the white kimono it wears and the paleness of its spindly fingers as it reaches out for you slowly.
You want to scream, to fight the approach of the cursed spirit that reaches forward until those ice-cold fingers brush along your forehead, sweeping away the stray hairs that had fallen over your face.
With the spirit being so close, you’re given the chance to see its face. It’s a woman. She doesn’t have horrific injuries or any abnormalities you had seen with the curse in the shadows, her lips are a pale blue and her skin is almost transparent.
Then it strikes you, like a shock through your system. You had seen this spirit before. She had called for you on the wind, tried to lure you closer and Sukuna had shielded your eyes from her. She found you. Sukuna had informed you that she would feast on your fear, prey on it until she had you right where she needed you to kill you. It’s hard to reign in that fear, to stop yourself from shivering beneath the icy feel of her fingers on your flesh.
You wait for the moment to snap, for the ghost-like woman to grasp at your throat and choke you. But instead, she repeats the motion of stroking along your forehead, those crystalline eyes hold no life as she watches your expression. 
“They know you’re here.” She whispers, her voice akin to that of ice. Cold and rigid. “You must run.” 
“I can’t.” You whisper in return, dropping your hand from your mouth and almost immediately the spirit drops her hand to run over the apple of your cheek. “I’ve never—I don’t know how to fight so many.”
Yuki Onna regards you for a moment, her pale blue lips pursed in a way that seems far too intelligent for a cursed spirit. Slowly her fingers trace down along your jaw, past stray hairs until it settles against the scarred portion of your neck. Her eyebrows raise, a spark of something in those blue eyes. 
“Marked.” She whispers, quickly withdrawing her hand from you as if your skin had burned her. “Run.”
Something snaps near the doorway, and you look up from the Yuki Onna in time to see the figure of a man fill the doorway. He bears only a katana on his waist — one of the ones that were most likely used for defence. His eyes meet your own, an odd glow to them that has your spine stiffening. 
You watch in abject horror as Yuki Onna shifts before you, her entire body shifting into something more fitting to her title as a cursed spirit. Gone is the facade of a woman. Her teeth become sharper, her face morphs into something from a nightmare. Her skin is torn and eaten by frostbite, and that glimmer in her eye is gone; replaced by a glaze that only belongs to the dead. She roars, a yowl-like sound as she rips away from you and lunges at the man. 
The sound that comes from the man is nothing like you had heard before. He screams a sound that comes from deep in his soul. A truly terrified scream that could only be soothed by the touch of a mother. You take it as your chance to do as the Yuki Onna had instructed; you run.
You feel the air shift almost immediately the second you step outside of the house, there’s no light anymore. The moon was almost completely blotted out by the darkness that had seeped from the sky, sealing you in. The snow crunches loudly beneath your feet, and you struggle to lift your feet high enough to not trip over yourself.
Another guttural scream has you looking over your shoulder hastily, and you’re gifted with the sight of the cursed spirit spreading her long claw-like fingers into the air. She’s perched over something, holding them down with her entire weight and a hand around their throat, it’s Yuki Onna who laughs in delight as the man beneath her writhes and screams for help.
A slice through the air has that scream silenced into a wet gurgle, her claws sank into the flesh of his chest. Uncaring for bones and muscles, it tears through as if the man was made of nothing but paper. To your horror, you watch as Yuki Onna leans her weight off of the man and stands to her full height with the man still attached to her claws.
Another spindly long arm rises up, taking hold of both of his ankles in one hand. You see his arms fruitlessly rise to try and bat away the cursed spirit, but she does nothing but raise him higher. And then she pulls. His bones and muscles all simultaneously crack and snap, skin tearing and stretching as if it were made of rubber. 
Blood sprays in every direction, intestines and other organs falling to the snow with a wet dull thud. The once pure snow is doused in the crimson rain, as is Yuki Onna who cackles like a witch. Her body further contorts, her jaw lowering until the length of the man's leg is dangled above the rows of sharpened teeth. 
You move when she clamps down on that leg, the snapping of bones in her mouth is like that of a twig. Her kindness to let you run may only be fleeting, it wasn’t unheard of for creatures of such violent nature to turn against anything and everything in its immediate vicinity. 
Inwardly you try to reach for that connection you had formed with Sukuna, perhaps you could pluck on the binding vow that tied your souls together and he’d know you were in danger. Yet when your fingers glide along that barbed wire connecting the both of you, it’s cold, cut off, dead. 
That alone makes you stumble into the snow until you’re on your hands and knees, the cold bites painfully at your bare palms and melts through the waning warmth of your clothing. Why couldn’t you feel him? Why couldn’t you feel anything anymore? The dull pulse of cursed energy around you was muted, as if it were under a dense body of water. The darkness within you coils and uncoils, pulsing with the uneasiness that grows within.
You were utterly alone. Sukuna wouldn’t come to your rescue as he had in the past, he wouldn’t even realise you were gone until it was too late. Would he hate you for it? Would he think you betrayed him after everything? Your heart seizes in your chest and shatters all at once, that type of pain could only come from loving someone so deeply—so devotedly. To have Sukuna hate you was the same as having to thrust a blade into your own stomach, you’d rather die.
And now you were stranded, in the snow, surrounded by dangerous people who wanted to return you to the Shogun. You had never fought properly in your life, not in a true battle. The fights with Sukuna were just that, a fight, an emotional thing that grew out of control. These people were trained killers, hired swords from the Emperor most likely who had one goal; to return you to the Shogun. Dead or alive was up for debate. They weren’t going to hold back, and you had no idea what their strength was.
“Given up already?” A man croons from in front of you, your fingers painfully curl further into the packed snow beneath you. His footsteps are slow as he approaches. “I didn’t think it was true. That you were connected to that abomination. But by the looks of things, the talisman is doing its job.”
His words swirl in your mind, abomination, talisman. They knew. They knew everything about you and yet you knew nothing about them. Your anger curdles in your stomach, it boils over the edge and burns at your very insides. Who betrayed you? Would it be Sukuna? No. He wouldn’t give up his own power, he wouldn’t hand you over to them.
Kenjaku was a possibility but even she feared Sukuna, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to do something like this.
“When that brunette came to us with word on the missing Shogun’s niece, I thought she was just looking for a way out of the hell she’s made for herself with the Generals.” 
Yorozu. The name spoken in your mind silences the ringing in your ears, it drowns out the crunching of the still-approaching footsteps. She did this, she’s the one who reported back to them after Sukuna had turned her away—after he declared you his wife before her. This was her revenge.
That slumbering darkness slithers along your spine and coils itself around your heart, until you feel nothing but the all-encompassing power of what Sukuna had given you. It whispers in your ear over and over that you had to kill. Kill Yorozu. Kill the ones who had come to take you away. Kill the Shogun. Kill the Emperor.
Feet come into view from your kneeling position, your hands still pressed into the cold snow and yet you no longer feel the chill in your bones. Darkness curls at his feet, a thick black fog that spreads out along the snow and creeps closer and closer. That same whisper in your mind tells you that if it touches you, you’re dead.
The air moves above you, and you snap your head up in time to see a hand coming down to grab at your hair. Energy pulses from you, slicing through the air and consequently colliding with the man before you. He recoils immediately, a torn scream pulling from his throat when he grasps at the arm you had poorly severed. 
Instead of a clean cut, it’s a spiralled cut from his wrist upwards. His skin opens like a blossoming flower, the blood rushing from the wounds and pooling in the footholds he had formed in the snow. His working fingers attempt to grab at the loosening skin, to hold it in place but it’s all for naught. The bone breathes against the cold winter night, and the pooling darkness at his feet has scattered with the wind.
Unwilling to be caught in his retaliation. You strike again. You rear up onto your knees, flinging a hand in his direction and watch as his body flies backwards from the impact. His body slams into the undisturbed snow with a crack, the powered snow flinging up into the air before it resettles. 
You’re on him before he has the chance to blink, the air around you is malleable with the density of your own cursed energy. It visibly dawns on the man beneath your body that you were more than just ‘connected’ to Sukuna, you harboured his energy—it lived within you. 
“Filthy whore!” The man spits, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Your fingers tighten further around his throat, his words cut off into a gargled choke. “He’ll kill you. It doesn’t—doesn’t matter what you do. You’re dead.” 
You lean closer to his face, pressing against his throat until you can feel the give of the muscles there. It cracks beneath the weight and his eyes widen in pain, yet no scream comes. “I have faced Death. Your threats are nothing to me.” 
That same dark energy deep within you slithers along your fingers, coiling around the man's neck instead and you can only watch as his eyes bulge from his head. The whites of his eyes pop with blood vessels, and the blueness of his lips worsens with each passing second. Blood drips from his nose, from the corner of his eyes and leaks in rivers at his ears. 
The tension in the air grows until suddenly… it snaps.
It comes in a bang, a pop, and you watch as brain matter and flesh are scattered across the snow beneath you. His blood is warm on your skin, almost scorching hot before it rapidly cools against your chilled skin. It melts into your kimono, staining you in the aftermath of what you had done to him. 
Beneath you, his body still twitches, aftershocks of what had so suddenly occurred to his body jolting you from your place. You stand above him, watching his fingers twitch rigidly, grasping at what, you’re unsure. Then as quickly as it started, his body grows still.  “I quite liked Hoshi. It’s a shame he died to the likes of you.”
A figure stands in the distance, their hands hidden behind their back but you spy no weapons. Their steps are slow, uncaring for the blood they step through to grow closer. As they come closer, finally do you see their face. The sclera of her eyes are as dark as the sky above and in the midst of them is an iris of pink. She looks otherworldly. 
“I should kill you.” She speaks as if she were commenting on the weather, her head tilted to look down at the body that had already begun to discolour in the cold. “But He asked for you to be returned alive.”
“I won’t go with you.” The woman before you raises an eyebrow at the words you spit in her direction, eyes roving over the blood that freezes against your cheeks. 
“He didn’t say anything about rendering you a cripple.” 
You don’t get to make a move, not even a second has passed when you can only watch the world around her distort as if you were looking through an obscure piece of glass. Her fingers flex and raise up, and then she grabs something. 
A sickening crunch comes from your nose, impacted on the hardened snow from the invisible force that had hit you from behind. Blood tinged your teeth and sinks into the back of your throat, a coppery taste that no longer disgusts you as it had only months ago.
Something moves in the air above you and you can only think of throwing your arm out towards her, angling all of your fingers tightly together as if your hand was a blade itself. Unlike the aching pain that comes with using Sukuna’s technique, you find it’s replaced with a tingling sensation. 
You watch your arm bend unnaturally, distorted as if it were plunged underwater and you were observing it from above. Was this her cursed technique? You couldn’t put a pin on what exactly she was doing—something with the sky, or the space around her. 
But you don’t get a second further to attempt and understand her technique, because the space surrounding your distorted arm further twists around until the palm of your hand is pressed against your bicep. 
The pain is sharp and quick, it slices without remorse. The space that held your distorted arm falls away, as does your arm into the snow. She rebounded your technique. A quick glance at your arm is enough to confirm that it had been cleanly severed midway through your upper arm, and the blood that pours from it warms the side of your kimono.
How did Sukuna withstand this type of pain? You’d severed his arms more times than one should be allowed to, he even laughed in your face—... but you can only feel the chill in the air stroking along the edge of your exposed nerves and the bone that aches something fierce. 
You stumble to your feet, and your uninjured hand swipes through the blood that pours from your now-sliced arm. It burns warmly against your fingers, thickening in the cold air until it forms a sticky substance on your hand. Your head feels light, the aching rooting itself deep into your bones. It was something else to see yourself mortally wounded, you’ve come to realise. It was a wake-up call that you weren’t anything more than flesh and bone.
The pink-eyed woman before you draws back an arm in your peripheral vision, and that swirling darkness in you roars to life. It bares its teeth and claws, if it were to have a corporal form then perhaps it would roar in fury at being struck with its own blade. 
Like being plunged into icy waters, you watch the woman before you freeze in place. The muscles in her arms tensed under the pressure of unleashing your cursed energy, and her fist was just mere inches away from colliding with your already broken nose. Her eyes don’t move beneath your technique, and that gives you just a moment before she realises just how your technique works.
Bubbling hot energy pulses up your spine and spreads along the span of your shoulders, it thrums at the exposed nerves and the edge of the bone until that too starts to bubble and reform skin, bone and muscle in one fluid flick of your arm. 
Takako’s eyes widen marginally when her fist connects with nothing but thin air. Her panic is palpable, you can taste it on your tongue, at the back of your throat, it tastes like triumph. Something flexes just beside Takako’s arm, you can see the space around her moving and bending—so you grab it.
With your remade hand, you grasp a hold of the intangible material. It feels cold beneath your fingers, like ice. It’s invisible to the naked eye, but you can see the shimmer of cursed energy that threads itself in the cracks between space and the sky. 
Takako opens her mouth to speak, to scream, to question just what Sukuna had made you into. However, you tighten your grip on the invisible space gripped in the palm of your hand—and you throw with all your strength. The cursed energy within is immediately overpowered by your own, and it cracks like a fissure in ice.
Her body is thrown back from your own, tumbling over the body of the deceased assassin in a flurry of white snow. You can feel the grip on Takako’s cursed technique slipping. And so with a burst of cursed energy in your arm, you crack down the should-be intangible thread you had been holding hostage and you watch it crack and splinter further, bursting into a million pieces after it slams Takako down further into the ground.
Something swirls in your stomach, white-hot and roaring to life far too quickly for you to reign it in. Takako remains still in the snow, her body rising onto one elbow to meet your eye. Her body is torn and twisted awkwardly, yet she still lives. And for as long as she lived, she was a threat. 
To you. To Ryomen.
That heat within grows hotter and hotter by the second, the snow at your feet melting away into slush, before that too starts to bubble from the heat the billows from you in pulsing waves. It feels like your very blood is on fire, your skin a mere thin barrier between a firestorm and the outside world.
You’d seen Sukuna only once wield his flames. He used it without any strain, you could do it. You knew you could—and truly, you had no choice but to wield them or succumb to the flames and burn. 
So you shift on your feet, a side-ways angle, and you raise both of your hands. The fire roars to life suddenly at the tips of your fingers, it bites at the frostbitten skin there and before you can stop it, it expands suddenly.
You grasp it between two fingers, pulling back until you are poised like an archer. The flame lights up Takako’s face, and you can see genuine human terror on her face. Gone is the mask that had protected her from the elements, blood drips from her nose and stains the side of her face. 
“Monster.” The pink-haired woman rasps, the blood wetting her tongue. 
“Worse.” It’s merely a whisper over the hissing of the fire that continues to burn away at your flesh, wilting away the kimono that had been stained in the unknown assassin’s blood.
In one smooth exhale, you release the arrow made of flame. It roars through the cold air, lighting up the path between both you and Takako. Her body coils up quickly, arms held over her head as if that would stop what is to come—
You can’t stop the arrow on its trajectory, and a shot of surprise ricochets up your spine when something, someone steps out in front of the arrow. An explosion of light blinds you temporarily, and you lift a slowly-healing burnt arm to shield yourself from it. You can hear the snow around you hiss and steam from the impact of the fire arrow being splintered into hundreds of pieces.
Buildings around you splinter further and collapse under the intense heat of the splintered parts of the flame arrow. And when you look out from the safety from behind your forearm, you can’t see a thing, it’s as if you’re looking at a blank canvas of bright white light.
The snow is cold against your back, it nestles itself into cuts you were unaware you had and acts like a stinging salve to the burns along your arms. The night sky above you winks back to life, the inky blackness that had overtaken the sky melts away until the moon greets you once again.
What happened? Your mind screams at you over and over, you want to grasp at the snow beneath your fingers but you can’t move. Nothing feels right, everything feels—off. Something is wrong. 
“I’m sorry.” A voice speaks to your side, and you can’t even find it within you to move your head in their direction. Instead, only your eyes move and above you is a man crouched down, looking down at you. His silhouette is outlined by a blinding light, his features darkened from the sheer brightness. “I should’ve intervened sooner.”
“W-Wha—” Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, and your teeth ache as if you had been punched directly. Nothing is making sense.
“Sleep, Lady Zen’in. Your uncle is waiting.” His hand raises slowly, and as he grows closer you can scent copper—blood, a smell so ripe that it sticks your tongue to the roof of your tongue and you can only watch with widened eyes as he leans closer into your space, close enough that you can see brilliant golden eyes looking down at you. 
“No—wait..” You try to move your arms, to raise a weak hand to stop him from touching you. But your body protests at the sudden jolting movement, a sharp pain that blossoms in your chest. 
Fingers press against your forehead, and that darkness inside of you screeches at the contact. Something warm washes down your body from the fingers pressed to your forehead, it coils around your head and drags your eyelids down slowly.
The man above you remains with his hand against your forehead, but you swear something like colossal white wings unfurl from his back before it all goes black.
...
Sukuna lurches up in bed. His heart beating a rhythm akin to that of a war drum against his chest, his fingers curled against the flesh there, as if he were to reach inside and calm it by tearing it out. His fingers press harder against the side of his chest, it aches like he had been hit by something solid enough to knock the wind out of him.
His mind clears quickly, and he grows silent. Frozen in place with a sense of stillness only a predator could achieve, the chill of the wind from outside cools the sweat building at the back of his neck. But the warmth he had held so close to his chest last night is no longer there.
Sukuna sharply turns to glance down at your side of the bed, a large hand pressing into the mess of blankets and there’s no warmth there. Immediately he takes note that your weapon was still atop the dresser, mounted and displayed so proudly—something he had insisted on doing, to show you that you can be proud of your weapons. 
The previous night had held an intimacy Sukuna didn’t think was possible, he had never spoken to someone so softly and so quietly. Sharing stories of the past, mostly your past, and he would share his life experiences in battles—he even found himself telling you his favourite season and the festivals that surrounded them.
But those memories have quickly turned to ash, melting away to be replaced with a fury that only he could wrangle. It bares its teeth, and long claws sink into the futon beside him where your body should be. He can’t smell you, can’t even taste the intensity of your cursed energy on his tongue—you weren’t here.
You weren’t in his home, your home. You were gone.
That thought alone pains him like no other, no wound he had ever received felt like this. It’s a type of pain that has his throat tightening, and his teeth bared to the world. He doesn’t even quite realise he’s out of bed until he’s staring at the sword in front of him. You weren’t stupid, he knew you weren’t stupid. You would’ve never left your weapon behind if you truly planned on leaving him.
And you most certainly wouldn’t disobey the binding vow, he knew you had researched further on the vows themselves. They were unbreakable. A vow between body and soul even more so. You couldn’t leave him, not willingly. 
The dresser creaks beneath his hand, the wood splintering under the pressure. And like a raging inferno, he explodes. The surrounding walls and furniture are nothing to stop the slicing of claws and cursed energy, the room shatters around him as does the heart that beats in his chest tirelessly. 
Someone took you. He knows that much. He can’t even sense you beyond the boundaries of his temple, the barriers there had been put up an age ago. He didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to enter his domain, to enter within the wolf's den and pluck his—...his other half from her very bed.
No one surviving, besides Uraume, knew you were important to the King of Curses, he was certain of it—
A face with thick eyebrows and long brown hair framing it fills his mind. A growl unlike any living beast erupts from his throat. Yorozu. He knew she was a fucking idiot, but this? She dared to spill her guts to the Five Empty Generals and no doubt they involved the group of assassins; Sun, Moon and Stars. 
“Master Sukuna,” Uraume calls from the entrance of the room, careful to not step further into the room. Sukuna’s body heaves with each heavy breath, the sweat on his body burns away from just how hot his anger is. 
His fingers, which had moments ago torn apart wood and stone as if it was nothing, pick up the sword from the display stand. The energy within thrums at the touch, calling for a part of him that had been mixed with your own energy. He would ensure this sword would return to you, and you to him.
“Make the preparations. They’ve taken what is mine.”
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axelsagewrites · 11 months
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Ramsay Bolton*My Father Would Kill Me
Pairing: Ramsay x F!Reader
Summary: The reader decides to try convince Ramsay to help her family in less honrouble ways.
Requested by @darkrose33
Warnings: Ramsay, swearing, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, fingering, humiliation, spanking, rough sex 18+
Word count: 3411
A/N: Ramsay is a terrible terrible person who did terrible terrible things that I do not condone...however Iwan Rheon made him so attractive in a strange way so you cannot blame me for writing smut for him
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Masterlist Here
Ever since Ned Stark had died and Robb rode off into war the north had fallen into what you honestly thought was madness. The trade between Winterfell and the rest of the North had basically been cut off then randomly started again then slowed down then stopped then picked up again. Crime was all over the place since there was no Stark to fear.
Lords began to try snatch more power after Robb was murdered and the fights. Good gods the fights between houses and lords and ladies were endless. Petty fights turned into alliance breaking feuds. Up until recently your family had been relatively okay. until wilding attacks began more frequent in the surrounding villages. Before the Starks deaths they used to send men patrolling around the villages and outskirts for criminals and wildings, but the Boltons had no continued this. They didn’t care how the rest of the north was as long as they had Winterfell.
“We can’t continue like this,” you overheard your father tell your mother, “I must go to the Boltons and plead for their help,”
“What use is that? Roose hated you before he took the castle. You think he’ll help us now?”
But then the news came. Roose Bolton was dead. many said it was his bastard son had killed him and was the new Lord Bolton of Winterfell. Everyone knew before her death Catelyn Stark was terrified that a bastard would take Winterfell from Robb. How could she know that the bastard would turn out to be Ramsay Bolton?
Despite the news making your stomach churn it gave your family a brief glimmer of hope. The enemy of my enemy is my friend after all. Your father insisted this was your only hope and bundled you into your finest furs to go to Winterfell alongside him.
Now you were sat in Winterfell with your father waiting for its new lord to come and speak to you. It was hard not to grow nervous the longer you were forced to wait for Ramsay’s arrival. You had met him once years ago as a child. He had picked you a daffodil from the gardens to give to you, he must have been no older than seven. You had found it sweet at seven but when the other children noticed they teased him for presenting a lady with a weed. Ramsay pushed over the boy who had started the teasing however unfortunately for him that had been ten-year-old Theon Greyjoy who tattled on him, and Ramsay was dragged away by his father.
However, the Ramsey that entered the courtyard where you waited with your father looked far different from before. He no longer had noodle arms and knobbly knees. He walked with confidence oozing off him and a strange look on his face you could not quite place. His hair was no longer an overgrown bird nest on his head but a curly mop of locks that fit his face. If it weren’t for the rumours, you had heard about him on first glance you would have assumed he was a respectable lord of a noble house.
When Ramsay approached you noticed almost a twinkle in his eye. He ignored your fathers outstretched hand to take your hand into his. His hands were rough, but you noticed how soft his lips were when he placed a kiss to the back of your hand, “My lady,” he greeted, “How lovely it is to see you again,”
You tried not to blush as you bowed your head and gave a slight curtsey, “As it is to see you Ramsay- “your father shot you a shocked look at your slip up, “I mean my lord,” you tried to correct but Ramsay just chuckled at your embarrassment.
“Its all right My Lady. Old habits are hard to break,” his eyes lingered on you before going to your father. “How may I be of assistance my lord?”
Your father tried to explain the situation as best he could, but you could see Ramsay bore as each word carelessly fell from your father’s mouth in a half-jumbled mess. “As you can imagine lord Bolton it can be quite the struggle. It means so much to my family-to my daughter,” he said as he grabbed your arm desperately trying to keep his interest, “If you could spare even a few men- “
“I’ll have to take some time to consider it,” Ramsay cut your father off with a fake smile that made your stomach churn, “In the meantime you’re free to roam around Winterfell. I’ll tell them to set each of you up a chamber,” Your father’s disappointment was written across his face. He hadn’t expected this whole thing to last more than a couple of hours, but Ramsay clearly enjoyed having the upper hand, “If you’ll excuse me my lord, my lady,” Ramsay bowed his head, eyes focused on you before walking away with his hands clasped behind his back.
“When Ned Stark was in charge,” your father whispered in your ear, but you gave a sharp elbow to his side, “What?” he spat.
“Give him a chance,” you shot back in a whisper, nodding your head to where the guards stood obviously trying to listen into your conversation. “Lets just wait and see,”
Once you were in a private chamber your father began his long and incessant vent. While you could understand the frustration you also just wanted him to shut up. “I have half a mind to march up to him and- “
“Let’s not be hasty,” you cut him off, practically pushing him into a chair, “Why don’t I go enquire about food and we can figure out what to do after supper? We’re clearly not going home till tomorrow anyway,” he grumbled but finally agreed.
After you had requested for the kitchen to send your father some food, hoping a full belly would calm his temper, you suddenly found yourself walking to Ramsay’s chambers where the maids told you he’d be. You knew if you left it for your father to do it would not go so well. You paused in front of the door, unsure of what to say when you went in or if he would even let you speak. It was so out of the norm for you to be in a lord’s room especially alone. Perhaps this was a mistake.
Then the door swung open. A maid with a full basket of washing stood in front of you with a shocked expression. “What is it?” you heard Ramsay call from inside.
“You have a visitor milord,” she said, her eyes darting away from you. “The lady (Y/N),”
“Send her in,” Ramsay said but you could hear the smirk in his voice.
The lady gave you a sad smile before hurrying past you. you took a deep breath before entering the room, closing the door partially behind you, “My lord,” you greeted with a curtsey.
Ramsay was stood in his trousers and undershirt, and you blushed at the sight. Without the tunic and cloak, you could see he was far more muscular than you had expected. “What happened to Ramsay?” he enquired with a raised eyebrow as he crossed the room to where you stood by the door.
He was less than a foot away from you now and you could smell the sweet musky scent off him, “It would be improper my lord,” a smirk crept on his face.
Ramsay leaned in closer, one hand moving to shut the door behind you. his ears were by your lips, and you could feel his breathing on your skin, “More improper than visiting my chambers unattended?” he said before pulling back to where he stood before.
You blushed under his gaze, “My lord I came to- “
“Ramsay,” he corrected.
“Ramsay,” you smiled, the blush now spreading to your ears, “I came to plead for you to- “Ramsay sighed as he stepped back and walked to a table that held a jug of wine and two goblets. He poured two as you repeated practically the same speal your father had. He held one out to you and you took it without instruction to which he smiled at, “So it would mean so much to me if- “
“What do I get out of this arrangement?” he asked cutting you off. You were stunned for a second as you began to stammer for a response, “I’m a reasonable person my lady. I like to think at least. Its not crazy of me to expect to be compensated for my losses,”
“Of course, my lord,” you said, “It’s just that- “
“That your father has nothing to offer?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Perhaps then we should consider other options. Perhaps you have something to offer for instance,”
“My lord im afraid I have no more than my father,”
Ramsay laughed as he finished his wine, “I promise you my lady you are very,” Ramsay began to close the gap between you, now towering over you, his eyes gazing down into yours, “very mistaken,”
A flush spread across your cheeks at the look in his eyes and your gaze fell to the floor to avoid it, “I don’t understand what you mean my lord,”
Ramsay’s fingers went to your chin which he gently pulled up to force you to meet his eyes again, “I think you do though,” he said, his voice low, “I think you wouldn’t have come to my chambers if the thought hadn’t crossed your mind,”
You swallowed and stuttered under his gaze. While you had found him incredibly handsome you were a lady. To sleep with someone before you were wed could be catastrophic, “I cannot jeopardize my virtue,”
“Who would have to know?” his head dropped so that his lips were beside your ear again.
You shivered as his hot breath kissed your skin, “Its wrong,” you stuttered, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Can it be wrong if it feels so good?” he whispered before placing a kiss behind your ear.
You gasped slightly at the gesture and felt his smirk against your skin, “My father would kill me,”
Ramsay pulled back from your neck and took your face into one of his hands, his thumb stroking across your cheek bone, “As if I would let him to such a thing to such a pretty little thing,” it was hard not to lean into his touch.
“I’ve heard of the things that you do,” you stuttered, and it only caused his smirk to grow.
“A good girl doesn’t listen to the hens clucking,” he tutted, “All I have ever done to you has been kind,”
The memory of the daffodil brought a sad smile to your face, “Ramsay I- “
“If you can look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t want this, I’ll let you leave,” he said as his hand fell from your face.
His eyes never left yours however and you squirmed under his gaze, “I- “
“I’ll know if you lie,” he added as he stepped closer to you leaving no space between your bodies. His hands went to rest on your hips, “Tell me sweet girl,” he leaned closer, so his forehead was pressed onto yours, his lips an inch from your own. The words were caught in your throat as you tried to answer. “No one has to know,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours.
Without thinking your hands crashed onto his however while you intended a quick kiss Ramsay’s hand quickly went behind your back, pulling you closer to him and deepening the kiss. They felt like velvet against yours and you felt yourself get lost in the kiss. You had forgot about the goblet of wine you held until it fell to the floor with a clatter, the wine splashing on his fur rug. “Ramsay im so sorry,” you stammered as the kiss broke when you noticed the stain seeping into the carpet.
“Its okay,” he said taking your jaw in his hand and forcing you to face him. “You can make it up to me,” his lips dived back in for another kiss but this time his lips were far more desperate. He bit down on your bottom lip causing you to gasp into the kiss. You felt him smirk before he slid his tongue in. you moaned into the kiss at the feeling of his tongue mixing with yours.
You had kissed a couple lords before but none like this. No ones hold felt as strong as Ramsay as he pulled you as close as possible to his body. Your hands rested on his chest which felt so strong under your fingertips. Your hands crept up to his wide and muscular shoulders that were barely covered by the thin undershirt. Ramsay’s hand slid from your back to your arse that he dug his fingers in over your dress. You gasped when he suddenly spanked it and Ramsay just chuckled in response. With his hand lower down and pulling you in you could now feel his hard member pressing against you.
Without much warning Ramsay broke the kiss to harshly turn you around as he hastily began to unlace your dress. It came off quickly along with your shift. The air felt cold against your skin despite the fireplace in the corner and you flushed under his hungry eyes, “Much better than any of my dreams,” he grinned from behind you, his hands going to hold your breasts as he pressed himself to your back.
You gasped when he began to squeeze your breasts, his lips falling to press hard kisses along your neck. You felt his hard on pressing and grinding into your ass as his hands massaged and squeezed your chest. His kisses turned into sucking hickeys into your skin. “We shouldn’t,” you said but it came out as moans.
Ramsay chuckled as he let go of you before turning you to face him, “Then why are you moaning at my touch darling?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His hand trailed down your body and your breath caught in your throat as his finger ran across your folds, “You’re so wet,” he chuckled causing your skin to turn hot, “And you’re blushing,” he laughed, “You really are desperate, aren’t you?”
His lips captured yours again this time your hands holding onto his arms to steady yourself as his finger teased you, running up and down your fold but never going in. you whined into the kiss as his finger ghosted your clit. “Please,” you whined against his lips at how tortuously gentle he was going.
 Ramsay let out a dark chuckle as two of his fingers quickly dove inside of you. the burn of him filling you up made you gasp but Ramsay didn’t stop as his fingers began to massage inside if you, “Is this what you want darling?” his other hand grabbed your jaw as he forced you to look into his eyes. “You want me to fuck you with my fingers?” The way he began to curl his fingers made you moan but you didn’t answer, “Answer me,” Ramsay gripped your jaw tighter.
“Yes, my lord,” you said.
“Im beginning to like the sound of that,” Ramsay smirked as he repositioned his hand, so his thumb was now rubbing your clit. Your fingers dug into his strong biceps as you tried to steady yourself as your legs began to feel less stable and a knot was growing in your stomach. He clashed his lips back onto yours in a messy desperate kiss. His spare hand went to your ass. He placed a hard spank on your ass before rubbing his hand over the read mark. He enjoyed your gasps and moans each time he spanked it and praised the growing red mark.
Suddenly Ramsay pulled his fingers out of you causing you to whine as the growing knot suddenly disappeared. Ramsay spanked your ass at your protest before shoving his fingers that were wet with your juices into your mouth. “Suck,” he commands, and you greedily complied. Ramsay moaned at the sight of your soft lips around his fingers, “I’m going to ruin you,” he said before he pulled his fingers back.
Without warning Ramsay almost threw you onto the bed that was thankfully soft. He didn’t waste time in crawling over your body, leaving dark hickeys across your skin as he did. You moaned at the feeling of his lips sucking your skin, your fingers in his hair pulling it gently. “You look good enough to eat,” Ramsay said, and you shivered at the suggestion. His mouth wrapped around your nipple which he began to suck on the hard bud. His hand went down to your soaking cunt, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit. This plus the way his teeth grazed your nipple caused a series of moans to fall from your lips.
Ramsay let go of your nipple before he quickly flipped you onto your front. As you lay on the bed, face in the pillow, you heard Ramsay shuffling behind you and soon he was back behind you, lifting your hips up to be against his now naked length. Ramsey began to tease his cock up and down your slit causing you to whine. “I suggest you hold onto something darling,” Ramsay said as he lined his tip up with your hole before pushing into you. you gasped as it filled you up far more than his fingers had. Your hands curled into the sheets beneath them, your knuckles turning white at how strong your grip was, “I’m not very good at being gentle,”
And with that Ramsay began his thrusts. They were deep and precise as he filled you up completely causing a mix of gasps, moans, and curses to fall from your lips. You could hear his own grunts and moans as he thrust into you. his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips which you figured would leave deep marks by the time you were done. Ramsay sped up his past, his thrusts slightly sloppier but still just as deep.
“God your amazing,” Ramsay grunted as his thrusts grew quicker. “You take me so fucking well,” he said as one of his hands moved to rub circles on your clit. Your moans only grew and to try hide muffle them your face buried into the soft pillow. Ramsay’s hand shot to grab your hair, pulling your head up and out of the pillow as he pounded into you harder, “I want to hear you,” he grunted as he relentlessly pounded into you causing loud moans to tear through your throat, “That’s it,” he said, “Moan my name,”
“Ramsay,” you moaned, your voice shaky from the pleasure building within you. Ramsay’s hand dropped your head but this time you did not try concealing the moans he caused. He slapped your ass yet again before grabbing your hips tightly. His fingers sped up their circles and your moans grew louder, “Fuck. Please Ramsay. Please don’t stop,” you begged.
“That’s right,” he said, his thrusts becoming sloppier, “Who’s making you feel this way?”
“You are,” the knot from before was back and the pressure built even quicker than before, “I think im gonna- “you tried to warn as you felt your walls start to clench around him. Ramsay had moved your hips slightly causing him to hit a new spot that sent the pressure over the edge. You were practically shaking around him as the organs ripped through your body causing your lips to almost give out.
Ramseys arm went under your hips to hold you up. His thrusts were even faster as you rode out your orgasm but the way you had began to clench around him made his own come even quicker. “Fuck!” Ramsay groaned when he suddenly spilled inside of you. his grip on you was tighter as his orgasm took his breath away.
You crashed onto the bed when Ramsay’s arm fell away from you. he soon fell beside you on the bed sweaty and naked and panting. You forced yourself to roll over and stared up at the ceiling as you realised what you had done, “My father’s gonna kill me,”
Ramsay rolled over to place a kiss to your lips, “You’re far too valuable now to let him do that love,”
Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy
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toasttt11 · 4 months
Text
secret admirer
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Quinn was sitting in his living with Jack and Luke who just got into town that morning for the Canucks vs Devils game tomorrow night and they were talking while waiting for Carter to be done with her shower after her workout to go get dinner with their parents.
Quinn heard a knock on the door knowing it’s not his sister because she doesn’t knock, He got up off the couch heading to the door. He opened the door seeing a delivery person holding a bouquet of flowers and Quinn automatically knew who they were from.
“Carter Hughes.” The delivery person looked up from the clipboard.
“Yes she’s my sister.” Quinn nodded taking the clipboard that was handed to him signing it before handing it back and taking the flowers, “Thank you.” Quinn walked back in shutting the door.
Jack and Luke looked up seeing Quinn walk in with a bouquet of flowers, “You got an admirer there Quinny boy!”Jack teased grinning from his spot of the couch.
Quinn just rolled his eyes, “There not for me.” Walking over towards the wall that’s between Carter and his apartments.
“For Carter.” Luke realized wondering who would be sending his sister flowed personal to her address so it had to be someone who is close to her, and it pained Luke to realize he didn’t really know who she was close to.
Quinn knocked on the wall between Carter and his apartment, “Hurry up Cart! There’s something here for you.”
Carter yelled back from her apartment just having finished brushing her wet hair, “Yeah yeah i’m coming.” She slipped on her favorite black healed boots with wearing a pair of blue loser jeans, a tight long sleeve white knit sweater and a leather jacket with white fur lining on the inside. Carter leaned down pressing a kiss to her dog who was sleeing under his blanket before grabbing her purse and heading out the door walking to the door next to hers and walking in.
“What came for me?” Carter asked as she walked in seeking her purse on the front entrance table she made Quinn get when they lived together.
“Finally!” Jack dramatically groaned from the couch as his little sister walked in, only getting an eye roll from her in response.
“These.” Quinn walked into the living room handing her the flowers with a small teasing grin.
Carter looked down at the flowers knowing exactly who go them from her and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and the smile that was forming and she was trying to stop it by bitting her lip. She took the card and opened it.
Have fun tomorrow
Love C
Carter fondly shook her head at Connor, Connor who has always sent her flowers.
“Who sent them.” Luke raised an eyebrow seeing the blush on hers cheeks and the smile on her lips, having not seen that look on her face ever.
“A friend.” Carter settled on saying as it is the truth Connor and her are still just friends but they know what they feel for each other they just haven’t made anything official yet.
Quinn choked out a laugh trying to hide it with a cough, knowing that Carter and Connor are never just friends.
Carter rolled her eyes smacking Quinn on the arm, “Shut up Quintion.”
Jack and Luke shared a look realizing they both are behind on more than they realized, and they made both of them sad especially because it’s a reminder how Carter growing up.
“No boyfriend though?” Jack protectively asked his sister.
“No Jacky.” Carter rolled her eyes use to the protectiveness from her brothers.
“Not yet.” Quinn muttered.
“Quinn!” Carter exclaimed looking at him all flustered making Quinn snicker, “Whatever can we go now.” Carter asked before leaving the room and setting the flowers on Quinn’s kitchen counter.
Carter walked back into the room with them all standing up waiting for her, they headed out the door, getting into the elevator in silence.
“So do we know him?” Jack questioned towards his sister.
“Jack!” Carter rolled her eyes groaning as she heard Quinn snicker and she could see the smile Luke was trying to hide. She shook her head fondly having missed all three of her brothers together not that she would tell them that.
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